Miranda's Greatest Disappointment
by Millie
Summary: -The Devil Wears Prada- Miranda and Andy run in to each other. New York is rather small after all...Set after the movie...Mirandy. Now accepts anonymous reviews...so review away. Hahahaha
1. Chapter 1

I told myself I was going to do this, but I find myself doing it anyway...

So I hope you like it...Reviews would be lovely, but I understand if the Devil Wears Prada appeal is no longer there...

Chapter 1

Whatever had prompted Miranda to write that Andrea was her biggest disappointment, both mystified and stooped Andrea. She was almost certain that the cold-hearted woman who she had formerly called her boss would have, and should have, written her the most horrendous letter of recommendation possible. But the words that had followed Miranda's apparent discontent and distain had thrown Andrea. She couldn't even begin to fathom why she would have followed that big ugly word –disappointment- with a sentence that was so contradictory, Andrea had forgotten to breathe when her new employer had uttered it.

Miranda was always full of surprises. She had gone out on a whim to even hire Andrea. And Andrea had known and had taken advantage of the small mercy Miranda had given her. Over the nine months she worked for Miranda, however, her viewpoint had changed.

She carried herself differently, she knew how to command attention, but unlike Miranda, she hadn't given her soul away. Not entirely.

What she might have lost, quite possibly, was her heart. But to what she wasn't quite sure. At least not until she heard Miranda's recommending words.

"…you'd be a complete idiot not to hire her…"

The words rolled through her mind as she made her way to her new office, mindlessly wondering past her old work building. Elias-Clark loomed above her, taunting her, torturing her with what seemed like a lifetime of stress and work all under the woman who had just assisted her in getting her her new job.

Attempting not to glance at the entrance way to see if Miranda was clicking her way from the car to the front of the familiar building, on her way to another busy, hectic day at the office, Andrea allowed herself to wonder what the silver haired woman would be up to today. Firing another assistant? Ruining another designers new Fall line? Throwing out an almost complete editorial because it didn't fit correctly in the current issue? Quietly berating her wardrobe workers for pulling the wrong looks?

A chill raced down Andrea's spine and she was glad to turn the corner, out of sight of the haunting building. For some reason almost all of her thoughts were laced with Miranda nowadays. Ever since she had happened to see her stepping out of her car that one day, and ever since she had blatantly seen Miranda stifle a smile directed right at her, she had known that a connection still existed.

Something had been left unsaid, undone. Andrea walking away that day in Paris had been almost unfulfilling and she wondered if it was because she secretly, deep down missed Miranda.

She had come to so fully rely on the older woman, that not having her call her to wake her up at six in the morning to ask her for her coffee or tell her she had to run to Saks to pick up some samples made Andrea feel lost.

And that insistent phone ringer still haunted her dreams at night. She'd wake up at five in the morning having heard that phone ring splitting through her dreams, only to find that her apartment was completely silent.

It was just empty without Miranda.

How had she come to this? She had been convinced that leaving Miranda was the best thing she could do, but apparently it had proved to be the exact opposite.

As Andrea mindlessly took her seat at her new desk, assessing her workload for the day, she tried to push all thoughts of Miranda and her past out of her mind. She settled in to a nice pace and by lunchtime she had completely forgotten Miranda and her old job until…

* * *

Miranda was furious. Nothing was going the way she had planned it would. Everything was behind, people were screwing up left and right, and all Miranda could do was sit at her desk and rub her temples, glaring as the little minions in her office dared to walk by.

"Emily?" She called, not allowing her voice to raise much above a whisper.

She exhaled sharply when her now one and only assistant did not appear.

"Emily?" She tried once again; frustrated that she had to repeat herself.

"Yes?" There she was.

"Get my coat, I have lunch with…"

"The editor. Right. Shit." She had heard the curse word uttered under her assistant's breath, but she chose to ignore it.

She closed the newspaper she had in front of her, pushing it off to the side, hiding it below the plethora of magazines spread across her desk. She wasn't embarrassed that she read _The New York Mirror_. There was nothing embarrassing about it. She had always read it. But she had realized that the particular article she had been focused on for the last five minutes belonged to someone she knew and also someone she knew the people around her knew. And because of this, she chose to hide the magazine.

Her face betrayed none of the emotions reeling through her head as she allowed Emily to assist her in pulling on her coat.

"I'll be back by one. I expect all the clothes for the run-through in my office by then and my Starbucks on my desk waiting. Also I need you to call over to Dolce and Gabbana. There are shirts waiting for me there, I need you to get them. That's all." And with that she placed her sunglasses over her eyes and let the glass door close softly behind her, completing her exit.

* * *

Sometime later Miranda arrived at her lunch destination. She stepped out of her car and crossed the sidewalk to the entrance. The doors were pulled open before her and she gave the doorman a faux smile. The maître'de, recognizing her, ushered her to the waiting table. However, the table was empty. Her appointment had dared to be late. She was enraged.

She refused a drink, but watched as her waitress, with a wavering hand, filled her glass with water. Miranda waved her away, telling her her services would not be necessary until the other party had arrived.

The waitress quickly raced away, and Miranda fixated on the door.

It was then that the last person she had expected to see that day, or any other day, decided to step in to the restaurant.

Her breath caught, if only for a moment. No, no she refused to allow this new arrival to make her already off day worse. She would ignore this, just like she would ignore the fact that her lunch date was rudely already five minutes late.

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, okay. Don't get too excited. I usually can't update this quickly, but this story has really caught hold of me and it won't let go. Haha.

Glad you're enjoying. Oh and I forgot to mention that I don't own these characters. Sad, right? I know.

Chapter 2

But the girl had other plans.

She spotted Miranda, even had the nerve to wave at her. Miranda tried to look away, clearly displaying her displeasure on her face, but this did not deter the adamant young woman Miranda remembered so fondly .

Miranda looked back at the girl and realized she was approaching. Rapidly. Fuck.

"Miranda." the girl shyly sighed; rolling the older woman's name off her tongue like it was some exotic word.

"Andrea." Miranda, attempting to sound annoyed, responded.

"What are you…"

"A lunch date, with an editor." She didn't know why she was explaining this to her ex-assistant. She could have just waved her away. She tried to look over Andrea's shoulder, inwardly begging said editor to step through the door at any moment.

"Right, well…it was good to see you. Again."

Miranda civilly looked up at Andrea and nodded, her eyes wide in clear annoyance. Her biggest foible, however, was when she met Andrea's chocolate colored eyes. She felt something buried deep down inside melting.

She knew the editor wasn't coming even before she felt her phone vibrating in her pocket. Andrea seemed to sense this fact as well, for she stayed rooted to the spot, appearing to be waiting for an invitation to sit. Miranda was contemplating not giving this to her, but finally she leaned her head to the side and then nodded her head as if to say, "Why the fuck aren't you sitting down?"

Andrea quickly jumped to, memories of Miranda's demanding stares jolting her body into a fit of nerves. She plopped down in to the seat across from Miranda and watched as the waitress lavished the table with attention, bringing a basket of bread and filling Andrea's water glass.

Andrea realized she was saving Miranda yet again.

Miranda leaned forward, one elbow on the table, finger resting on her bottom lip. She watched with wide, horrified eyes as Andrea actually began eating the bread. Andrea had quietly smeared that disgusting food called butter all over a huge piece and then bit in to it.

It was only when her doe eyes caught those crystal blues of Miranda's, that Andrea dropped the piece of bread on to the plate in front of her. "Right, I forgot I was supposed to be anorexic." She half-whispered to herself.

Miranda frowned and then picked up her menu.

Andrea squinted her eyes at the back of the open menu before her, glaring at the woman who now hid perfectly behind it.

"What are you doing here, Andrea?" The question seemed to come out of nowhere, and Andrea wondered if she'd heard correctly.

"She speaks." Andrea finally muttered, causing Miranda to turn down one side of the menu so that her perfectly coifed eyebrow could rise in an alarming, questioning manner. "I mean…I…um…I usually pick up my editor's lunch here. But he can wait."

Miranda's tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth. "Didn't I teach you anything during your time at _Runway_?" Her voice held a hint of annoyance and she tilted her head to the side to add extra emphasis. Her delicate, pale finger came to rest at her chin once again.

"Oh…of course you did." Andrea found herself gaining more confidence as she spoke. This woman was no longer her boss. "No, he's nothing like you though. I actually have more than fifteen minutes to eat lunch. And I get weekends off."

Miranda raised her eyebrows in mock surprise, sucking in her cheeks at the same time. Her attention had gone back to her menu.

Andrea was beginning to hate herself for even attempting to have lunch with her former employer.

Once they had ordered, Andrea allowed herself to observe Miranda, really observe her. She sat rather distractedly, as if she were in her own world. Her fingers would clasp together and then come unclasped. It was as if Miranda were fidgety. And it also appeared that something was nagging at her.

Finally Miranda opened her mouth to speak, but then, seeming to think better of it, closed her mouth once more. Freeing one hand from the other she picked up her water and sipped it, apparently needing a distraction, a way to wash down the question that was at the tip of her tongue.

It would have been so easy to ask, just a few short words that would roll off her tongue. The only problem was she would regret saying them as soon as they left her body. She felt she would be giving up too much of her control over Andrea.

So she remained silent. Silent until Andrea decided to speak.

"How…" Andrea seemed to be at a loss for words as well. "How are your twins?"

"Fine. Caroline was cast in her first show at their new school and Cassidy decided to join the soccer team, even though I insisted she stayed in orchestra." Miranda widened her eyes and glanced down, surprised at what she had just told her former assistant. She would never have said any such thing to her before, but now…now the words just came so easily. She felt compelled to tell Andrea everything, just as she felt compelled to ask her, "why did you leave?"

"What?" Andrea's head shot up.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Had she really just said those words? Those four simple words: why-did-you-leave?

She cleared her throat, attempting to look cool and relaxed. "I just wanted to know," she easily leaned back, taking her time this time to ask the question that burned at the back of her mind, "why you left me there on the steps in Paris all by myself. In front of a crowd of photographers. And then…then you didn't even have the courage to answer the twelve or so phone calls I sent to you. I thought you were better than that Andrea."

"Well," Andrea looked down, "I guess I thought you were better than that too." She didn't have the nerve to look directly at Miranda, so instead she inverted her attention to the water glass she held between her hands. "It was really shitty what you did to Nigel." She exhaled, afraid of what Miranda might do next. Would she stand up and storm out of the restaurant and have a restraining order placed on Andrea? Would she succeed in getting her fired from her new job? Would she make sure Andrea never worked in New York City or any subsequent city ever again for as long as she lived?

But to Andrea's surprise, none of the above happened. In fact, she was taken aback when she heard a deep throaty laughter begin to surface from the woman who sat across from her at the lunch table.

"Oh, Andrea. Don't be ridiculous." Miranda could hardly contain herself. "After we got back from Paris, I looked all over for some kind of job opening Nigel would excel in. He's now currently co-working with a new designer out of Russia. Now, was that a shitty thing for me to do?"

Andrea could only stare wide-eyed with mouth agape at Miranda. "Holy fuck."

"There's no need for such language, Andrea."

"Right, sorry." Andrea still could not believe it. And just to hear Miranda say those words and have that kind of reaction it almost made her…well quite very human. Andrea knew there was a living breathing person deep down inside Miranda. It had surfaced that night at the big ball when Andrea had saved Miranda from public embarrassment due to her now ex-husband. When Miranda had mouthed those two, simple words –thank, you- Andrea had known.

Their food came, breaking the unusual air that had settled between them. As they ate, something changed. It was more comfortable. The lunch had become a good idea after all. Andrea was glad she had stayed.

Conversation came sparsely throughout the meal, and it wasn't for lack of subjects to speak on. It merely came from the fact that Miranda was not the best conversationist. She found herself lost for words and tongue-tied. A feeling she was not very used to. Most usually she was a very articulate person, capable of light chatter at soirees and balls. But having lunch with her former assistant seemed an entirely different task. It was quite hard. And she found it hard to believe that Andrea was staying just to talk to her. So why else would she be there, sitting across from her, eating lunch?

For a short moment Miranda wished she were someone else. Someone who could let down her guard and truly speak without having to jeopardize her powerful position in her day-to-day relationships. But she had worked so hard to build her hard outer shell and so she was stuck with this lack of emotions, lack of feeling, lack of outward caring when it came to employees; both currently employed and unemployed by her.

Andrea excused herself to the bathroom for a moment when the conversation had all but died down. She had left the table, not really to use the bathroom, but to escape Miranda for a moment. She had to collect her thoughts, steady her mind, and her hands, which had been trembling since she'd sat down.

She was beginning to feel things for this woman she had never felt before in her life and she had no idea why. There was no explanation. Was it even possible for one to have such unusual feelings towards their ex-boss, especially when said ex-boss was Miranda Priestly?

After splashing water on her face, she returned to the table. She had decided that she would rid herself of these strange feelings by trying to push Miranda away. Perhaps then she could forget about her.

"You know my boss is nothing like you. He's sloppy and forgetful. He pushes back deadlines. Sometimes he doesn't come in until ten. I thought I would like that, but I haven't quite gotten used to it yet."

Miranda rolled her eyes. The newspaper Andrea currently worked at was lousy. Not the best Andrea could do. Not by far.

"But the thing that I love the most is sleeping in. I think I missed that the most. Having that time to just cuddle with the person who shared my bed, and then he would make me breakfast, and we would just relax." Andrea had no idea why she was shoving this in Miranda's face. There was just something persuading her to see if she could get Miranda to feel, to react. She wanted to know if she could get a different look from Miranda, something that would perhaps give away her inner dialogue. But no such thing occurred. She just looked as stolid as ever.

But unbeknownst to Andrea, and what Miranda would never let her see, was that deep down she suddenly felt a pang of sadness. That…what Andrea had just described…was something she had never had. Ever. Her past three marriages had been devoid of just relaxing. There had been sex. Good sex. Amazing sex. But that was all she had time for. None of the in between.

Shifting her weight in her chair, head tilting in the opposite direction, she stared at Andrea over the table. "Why are you sitting here blabbering away about all of this? Am I supposed to feel remorse because you left me for a seemingly better job? I mean, really it sounds just wonderful, Andrea. I wish I could work there."

"Don't mock my job. At least I'm writing there. That's more than I can say of what I did for you. I was your slave, Miranda. I ran around the city with millions of packages and scalding hot coffee just for you. I hadn't written anything in over a year. How in the world did you expect me to benefit from that?"

"Many girls would give their right arm to work for me, Andrea." Miranda practically spat her name, tossing her unused napkin on to the table in disgust. She was clearly finished with this meal.

"Right. I'd forgotten how important you were, Mr. Priestly." Andrea retaliated and half expected Miranda to rip her head off.

"Don't mock my name, Andrea." But her voice had softened. She didn't sound angry…no anger was seemingly replaced with a hint of…sadness?

"Sorry." Andrea found herself apologizing for the umpteenth time to her former slave driver. But there was something about Miranda that just sagged. Not physically, but emotionally something was running down. Her sharpness was dissipating the longer they sat there.

"I think this meal is over." Miranda in a split second decided. She waved down a waitress, placed her credit card in the holder without even looking at the bill, and then clasped her hands together, resting her chin on top of them.

"Miranda…"Andrea began, but there were no words. She was completely stumped. There was nothing else to say. She had just insulted Miranda and now she couldn't quite formulate a way to repair the damage she had done. She sensed that Miranda had been about to exonerate her for leaving her job in such a powerful way, perhaps even praise her for her feat. But, instead it had gone downhill. She concluded that this had been a bad idea…but she couldn't help but wonder if after this lunch she would ever even see Miranda again.

The thought that she might never sit so closely or talk to her so candidly ever again did not sit well with Andrea for some unknown reason.

She tried again for a consoling sentence, but when none came she fought back the urge to cry. She had spoiled the moment.

"Don't pout Andrea. It's not very becoming." Miranda had glanced away from Andrea, but it was then that she realized the older woman had been watching her. Closely.

Andrea looked down at her neatly folded hands in her lap. "Sorry." She whispered again.

"No, no more apologizing." Miranda breathed, receiving the check from the waitress. With a quick flourish of her hands, her card was placed away in her billfold and a twenty was dropped on the table. Miranda got up and moved towards the exit, leaving Andrea seated at the table in both shock and adoration of Miranda's slender, retreating form.

TBC...I know it probably sucks right now...but I'm working on it. Hahaha. It's the awkward beginning...


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

What Andrea had missed, however, was a little tiny piece of paper, a left over receipt, that had dropped right next to the twenty. It looked like trash, something that happened to fall out of Miranda's purse. But for some reason Andrea felt compelled to reach out and grab it. Perhaps it was a million dollar receipt for some piece of fashion, such as a necklace or scarf from some designer in a foreign country. What she was not expecting as she unfolded it, however, was to see Miranda's very familiar handwriting.

What shocked her even more was when the note in question stated;

_Call me no later than 11pm. You know my number, Andrea._

She couldn't even begin to understand what it meant or why it had been left, or if it was even intended for her. Well of course it had to be, it had her name on it.

It dawned on her then that while she had slipped away to the bathroom to collect herself, Miranda had done her own collecting. Or considering.

But what did it mean? Why would she want her to call her? Especially after what she had just said.

They had nothing to say to one another; nothing that Andrea could possibly fathom at the moment anyway.

So why then this strange note? And on a receipt for Starbucks no less. Had Miranda been insinuating that she also bring her her piping hot latte later that evening?

This was madness. She was not about to call her former boss. Absolutely not. No way.

But as she got up and began to exit, leaving the piece of paper on the table to be tossed out with the uneaten food, she for some reason couldn't get any further than the door. With a disgusted grunt, she turned back to the table, snatched up the receipt and placed it deep inside her purse.

Miranda still had her ball-and-chained.

* * *

Miranda wasn't good at asking for what she wanted. At least not directly. She had a way of getting things done that did not require her to actually say what she wanted. And it was this indirect approach that had gotten her nowhere in her past relationships.

Though she had been fond of her most recent husband, even loved him through his flaws and the way he would yell at her at night for being late, she had locked him out by barring direct conversation. She partially blamed herself for the dissolved marriage. She hadn't been a very good wife; not that she, Miranda Priestly, would stoop so low as to actually fulfill all of the normal wifely duties.

But she hadn't let him in.

Though thoughts of Stephen were few and far between, and had been hitting her sporadically ever since the divorce had been finalized, she couldn't help but wonder if in her current relationship endeavors she would be able to let her guard down enough to let the other person in.

But by no means did she want to have to beg for forgiveness for being late for dinner, as she had with Stephen, or make up for missing breakfast by performing strange sexual acts as she had done for her second husband, Henry. It was humiliating what she had gone through behind closed doors.

She decided that she deserved better. She was a strong business woman, who knew what she wanted. She didn't need a man to fulfill her, and as that had been her motto ever since her first divorce, she wondered if recently she'd only been getting involved because of her daughters, who needed a father figure. Lord only knew that their real father could hardly be considered a father.

He was so busy with his own corporation and assortment of young women, that there was little time for his girls. Miranda had begun making up excuses for his absence on weekends he was supposed to take the twins. She hated lying to them about why their father wasn't coming to get them, but she didn't know what else to do. If they knew the truth, that he just didn't have the time or the want to see them, would they ever forgive her? She hoped that their lack of relationship with their father would not come back to haunt them in the future. She just wished she could find someone who would care for them as much as she did, so that they had a second parent figure.

Stephen, surprisingly, had been good with the girls. He would take them places on his off weekends, giving them the much needed father to daughter attention. But, now that he was gone, Miranda didn't know what to do for her two girls. And without realizing it, ever since the divorce, Miranda had been happy to spend her free time during weekends with her daughters. She felt like holding them closer when she tucked them in at night, perhaps doubling her love for them so that they wouldn't feel that heartache of losing so many father figures.

However, weekends, when there wasn't work, she wasn't sure how to handle herself. She, deep down, felt more alone now than she had ever felt before in her life. Whoever said it was lonely at the top must have really known what they were talking about.

And perhaps it was this momentary weakness – for that's what she saw it as, a weakness- that she had stooped so low as to leave that crumpled receipt on the table. Left it for Andrea to discover and muse over. She almost hoped the young woman would miss it, not notice the crumpled receipt that probably looked like trash. And just maybe she wouldn't call, as she had instructed her to do, and then Miranda wouldn't do what she was about to do.

As Miranda sat in her study in her New York townhouse, looking over "the book" that had just been delivered to her, she realized she'd been focused on one page for the last thirty minutes. She had been reading the page over and over without really reading the words.

She was losing her focus. What in the world was she doing? She was the editor-in-chief. She didn't have time to dawdle.

She let her eyes glance over at the clock that sat on her desk. It was almost 11:00 pm. She had specifically instructed Andrea to call her before 11:00. What was the girl thinking? Why wasn't she calling?

No, no…why did Miranda care if she called or not? Didn't she want Andrea to miss the piece of paper so that she wouldn't call?

"Fuck," Miranda exhaled; completely annoyed that she was letting her mind wonder so far away from what she needed to focus on…

* * *

Andrea was wrought with nerves, completely anxious. She had no idea what to do. If she called she knew she would get roped back in to the tornado that was Miranda. She would rip through her life; use her like a pawn in a chess game. Or perhaps this was something entirely different. Andrea couldn't quite decide.

She sat on her worn couch; phone in hand, Miranda's number already dialed.

She just couldn't bring herself to press send.

Her finger hovered over the button, her eyes focused on the clock.

It was five minutes past 11:00. She was late, which made actually calling Miranda even more frightening. She knew she would get yelled at for calling too late.

But at the same time she was curious. Curious as to why Miranda had left the note so unsophisticatedly on a receipt. It had to mean more than what Miranda was letting on. That was just how Miranda was. If it meant something to her, she wouldn't make a big deal out of it.

Andrea sighed; she didn't know what to do.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. She thought as she brought the phone up to hit her forehead lightly. She should have just left the receipt on the table where she'd found it.

But suddenly she heard the phone ringing. It was ringing. She had hit send. "Shit." She gasped, not sure what to do with the phone. She held it away from her face, just staring at it, but when the line suddenly sounded as if someone had picked up, she frantically placed the phone to her ear, feeling like she had forgotten how to use said phone.

"You're ten minutes late," Miranda's voice hissed.

"I know…I uh..sorr…"

"I expected more from you Andrea." Miranda cut her off before she could apologize.

"What do you want from me, Miranda?" Andrea sighed, unable to stop her leg from bouncing up and down. She half expected Miranda to reprimand her for her behavior that day in the restaurant. She had been far from civil.

The other end of the line went silent for a moment. Andrea began to wonder if they had been disconnected after the silence extended on for a longer period of time than it should have.

"I know what you were trying to do today." Miranda's voice finally was heard on the other end. "Hundreds of girls would love to do the same, I'm quite sure. But I've never had someone actually succeed in doing it."

"Miranda, I didn't mean…"

"And furthermore, your writing is weak."

"What?" Andrea had no idea Miranda had even been following the mindless articles she'd been producing daily for _The Mirror_.

"It's trite in comparison to those articles you brought me to read on your first day." Miranda went on, ignoring her question.

"I didn't even know you read th…"

"I did, Andrea."

"Well what are you saying? I shouldn't write?"

Andrea could hear Miranda clicking her tongue. "You're not listening."

"What am I not hearing, Miranda?"

"There's a conference in Chicago next weekend. You're going."

"What? What about my…"

"You don't work weekends, remember?"

"But I have deadlines…"

"Your boss doesn't stick to deadlines, now does he?"

Andrea was speechless. She had no idea why Miranda was doing this for her and she was afraid to ask.

"Are you…?"

"Yes." Miranda quickly answered. "A car will arrive to pick you up at seven on Friday."

"But I…"

"No, no excuses." Miranda breezily exhaled. "That's all."

And with that the phone on the other end went dead. Miranda had hung up.

Andrea couldn't believe it. She was still in shock. The phone slipped out of her hand and dropped to the ground. She could not believe what had just happened.

And suddenly she was glad she had called. A conference, compliments of Miranda Priestly herself. Wow. Just wow. What had she done right?

TBC...


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry this hasn't been kept up. I was having trouble uploading documents, so I stopped for a while. But I am now going to get you guys caught up to where I am. I expect chapters for each chapter...even if I post them one at a time..I expect you to review...I know you're reading!! haha. So more review por favor! Muah! I love your all for reviewing. :D

Chapter 4

The car arrived at exactly seven o' clock that next Friday. Andrea was still cramming toiletries and placing her laptop in its case when she saw the signature black Mercedes pull up to her curb. Her heart began pounding, and she couldn't exactly pinpoint why she was feeling so nervous. She wondered if it was because she knew that there was a tiny possibility that Miranda was also waiting down in that sleek black car for her. And if she was, was she going to have to sit behind Miranda on the plane and work the entire time as she had on their way to Paris?

But why would she have to work for Miranda? She was no longer Miranda's employee. And she had her own work to do. A 1,000 word article due no later than Sunday evening. She laughed at her foolishness. But then that uneasy feeling settled in to her stomach again and she realized she was making Miranda wait…

Grabbing her bags she raced out of her apartment. Locking the door behind her, she fled down the stairs and out the front door only to discover that the back seat of the car was empty. But there was Miranda's one and only driver, Roy, waiting patiently for her.

She felt herself relax, if only a little, for she could at least take her time now. She was not going to get berated by Miranda for not rushing. But she also felt something sink. Was that her heart?

No, she was being silly. Had she really expected Miranda to also be in that car? Really?

Miranda would probably already by on her way with her new second assistant, or Emily. And that thought exactly was confirmed once all of Andrea's belongings were tossed in the trunk and Roy returned to his seat at the wheel.

"No, she left on Thursday morning." He nodded, "she's receiving that award on Saturday night, you know, so she had to do some press before the conference began."

"What?" Andrea had no idea what he was talking about. An award? That Miranda was receiving? What was he talking about?

"She's receiving that award."

"For what?"

"She's editor of the year."

"Oh, wow…she didn't tell me." Andrea knew this weekend had been too good to be true. Of course Miranda would be getting exonerated and of course Andrea would have to be there to watch. But this was good for Miranda, especially after her job had almost been taken from her.

But why did Miranda want her there? It just made no sense.

Roy just laughed, knowing that Miranda never mentioned much. The many years he had been driving her around he had gotten to know her through her silence and secrecy. He'd been through fights with her ex-husbands, calls to her daughters where she was blatantly lying about their father's where-abouts, and the thing he noticed was that she, despite her sharp demeanor, was a very modest, hard-working woman who let no one and nothing get in her way.

Andrea glanced out the window and noticed that the car was going in the complete opposite direction of where they needed to be. "Where are we going?" She suddenly asked, realizing that this most definitely was not the way to the airport.

"James Holt's."

"But why?"

"Did Miranda really not tell you anything?" Roy was smirking.

"Does she ever?" Andrea exhaled and watched as they pulled up in front of James Holt's loft. It was still the same, despite his new found fame. He was still designing, even bigger, better things than he had before. And as Andrea stepped out of the car and in to the tiny elevator she had once, long ago, shared with Miranda, she couldn't help but feel a touch of nostalgia for her time at _Runway_.

The elevator doors dinged open and James Holt opened the door. He had been waiting for her.

"How are you, beautiful?" He leaned in to kiss her cheek. He still remembered her.

"I'm quite good. Confused, but good." She asked, following him through the loft to his studio.

"Confused? But why? Didn't Miranda…"

"No. And does she ever?"

"You're right." He laughed.

And then it appeared. As if it had materialized from nowhere.

"What…?" She couldn't formulate a sentence. All she could do was stare at the form before her. The soft vanilla colored fabric was draped so eloquently across the mannequin; the large black bow, a signature of James, fit so nicely at the back, its satin limbs reached around the front of the gown and connected at the top to form straps.

"Miranda didn't think you'd have adequate attire for tomorrow night, so she instructed I make you a little something."

"Miranda said that?" Andrea was still mesmerized by the piece. "Wow." She couldn't take her eyes off it.

"Yes." James grinned, glad that his customer was easier to please than Miranda had ever been. "And it's all yours."

"No." Andrea touched the dress, timidly at first, as if it were a work of art. "But why would she do that?"

"I have no idea. I don't question her motives. But, you have a plane to catch and we still have a fitting to do so I can make final alterations and get it sent there by tomorrow at noon."

"Oh, right." Andrea had not worn proper undergarments for such a fitting, but she willingly shrugged out of her jeans, jacket, and shirt. James helped her step in to the gown and when it was zipped up in the back, and she looked in to the mirror, she almost couldn't breathe. It was gorgeous. All she could do was stand in front of the mirror and admire herself as James fluttered around her, marking and pinning.

"You've lost weight." He noted as he pinned in the waistline.

"I've been exercising." She exhaled, not really present in the moment any longer. This dress had seemingly transcended her to another world.

"All right, you're all done. You can get out of it now."

"But what if I don't want to?" Andrea laughed, snapping out of her reverie.

"You must. You have to be on a plane in a little under an hour."

"Oh right, shit." Andrea scrambled out of the dress and back into her clothes.

"I'll see you later." James kissed her on the cheek again and she thanked him profusely as she raced out of his loft.

Once back in the car, Andrea had time to think over what had just happened. Miranda had had a dress made for her for some unknown reason. Had the woman lost her mind? Who made dresses for their former assistants?

But there was hardly time to dwell on it; a plane was waiting for Andrea. She had to get all of her things checked and herself aboard the plane. To her surprise, she had not been given first class. She supposed Miranda's love could only extend so far.

She laughed as she thought about how preposterous this all was. Miranda's love? Where had that even come from? Could Miranda even love? Was that possible of her stolid, hard-hearted ex-boss?

Well of course she loved her daughters. That was evident in the way she had cried for them that candid evening that Andrea had happened to stumble upon her. The evening she learned of Miranda's divorce, even before anyone else had known about it. Miranda had made an exception for Andrea as she had made an exception for her this weekend. Why was Miranda so easily inclined to include Andrea, yet at the same time walk all over her as if she didn't matter?

This was probably this most confusing relationship Andrea had ever encountered in her life. She decided not to think about it too hard, and also decided to let the weekend be what it was. A conference. Seemingly to help her writing. Which, as she opened her laptop to work on her article that was due by Sunday, she didn't think was all that bad. But she also knew Miranda knew writing, so perhaps it was "weak".

Andrea couldn't think about Miranda's insult, however. She had work to do, and thinking that she was a weak writer just wasn't going to help her get it done.

* * *

There was a party that evening. A huge, magnificent party. All the speakers and nominees from journals and magazines were there, sipping cocktails and trading gossip. Miranda had tried to mingle. She had spoken with the editor of _The New York Times_ and a reporter from Los Angeles. Her own party had followed her around all night. Emily was behind her the entire time, whispering people's names in her ear, while her second assistant, Bridget, had been fetching her drinks and staring in awe at the famous people around her.

Bridget was nothing like Andrea. She was blonde and slightly stupid, but ambitious and a semi-hard worker. She hadn't learned to read Miranda as Andrea had, but Miranda supposed that possibly in time she would. Or not. And then she could just fire her and move on. But at the moment everything was going smoothly.

Miranda glanced down at her watch, noting that it was almost 10:30. She had decided to leave the party at 10:45 so that she could get her rest. And also Andrea would be arriving around 11:00 and she had left instructions for Andrea to come to her room the minute she arrived.

Deciding that the cocktails were no longer appealing and the hordes of poorly dressed people around her were beginning to become rowdy from too much drink, she turned to Emily. "I'm leaving."

"All right." Emily nodded.

"You can stay if you want, but I expect you to have everything in order for tomorrow evening no later than 8:30 tomorrow morning."

Emily nodded.

After a few goodbyes to those people she knew, she called her driver and stepped out the front doors of the hotel where the party had been thrown. In no time a car pulled up and she climbed inside, happy to be free of all those people and the noise they created.

When she arrived at the Hilton Chicago, she was ushered through the front doors and the elevator button was pressed by an attentive worker. She climbed on and the top floor suite button was pressed for her. And then she was alone. In the elevator.

She sighed and began removing her diamond bracelet, its weight on her wrist had become too much. She couldn't wait to get out of her dress and put on something more comfortable. Though she loved the glamour of it all, and especially because she was a fashion icon, she felt bad admitting that she wanted to get out of her designer gown. But tonight she just felt like being comfortable.

As soon as the doors opened and she found herself in her suite, her Jimmy Choo's were kicked off and her jewelry lain neatly on her bathroom sink. She unzipped the back of her dress and watched as it fell to the ground. She was left topless with only her underwear on and she looked herself over in the mirror. Her body didn't look a day over twenty. True, her breasts were beginning to sag, but it couldn't be helped. Her waist looked as small as it ever had, and her stomach, though it had held two babies, did not look flawed at all. Compliments of her favorite plastic surgeon.

Though she wouldn't let him go near her face. Her face was her only way of telling time. She could easily disguise it with make-up, but when that make-up was removed she could see her true self. And that was the only thing she seemed to have left that was truly hers. The only real part of her body. Besides her boobs, which she hadn't thought about getting done until now.

Her hand gently cupped her left breast, feeling her soft skin beneath her fingers. As she let the boob go and her fingers trail down her solid stomach, she couldn't help but feel a hint of arousal. She hadn't had sex in months.

Her body was getting so tense in response to her lack of intimacy. She wished she could find someone, even a one night stand would do. But her power and position left little room for a mistake like that. It would be all over the news if word got out that she'd mindlessly fucked some little nobody.

A quick glimpse of the clock alerted Miranda to the fact that it was nearing 11:00. And before she could even move from her spot to grab something to cover her half-naked body, she heard a knock on her door. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," she muttered as she reached for a robe. She pulled it on and made her way towards the door to the suite. Andrea had the worst timing. She was now sexually aroused and half-naked and Andrea had the good sense to show up at that exact moment. It figured.

Miranda threw open the door and was met with those docile, big, brown eyes. Andrea was looking jetlagged and tired and her wardrobe reflected it. Jeans, ugly jacket, hideous shirt.

It wasn't the first time Andrea had encountered Miranda in her bathrobe. But the sight still surprised her. Though her face still looked radiant from whatever party she had attended that evening, Miranda's bare feet and white bathrobe clad body looked relaxed. It seemed a simpler, more manageable Miranda who stood before her.

Without words Miranda ushered Andrea in, offered her a seat and then sat across the coffee table from her, careful not to expose her naked thigh as she crossed her legs.

"What do you want?" Andrea's voice was soft, timid.

The very sound of it sent shivers down Miranda's back, but she wouldn't let that show. The mere question had sent her body reeling in to oblivion and she could think of quite a few dirty comebacks to make to that remark, but she was, after all, above that childishness.

Miranda picked up a piece of paper off the coffee table between them and tossed it in Andrea's direction. Andrea caught it, thankfully, and read over it. "There are some seminars I'd like you to go to tomorrow. I've marked them. I think they will be helpful to you." Miranda explained in her indifferent tone.

Andrea skimmed over her selections and nodded. "All right."

Miranda glanced away.

"Why are you doing this? For me?" Andrea's voice was a little fuller this time. She wasn't as shy in her questioning this time.

Miranda shrugged apathetically. "I wouldn't want people to think that a former employee of mine was doing poorly at her job. How do you think that would make me look?" She responded, though she knew her reasoning was far from the truth. Though the "truth" was far from her as well. She had no idea what the "truth" was. Why had she brought Andrea here?

"Of course." Andrea rolled her eyes. It was always about Miranda. "But what about the gown you had made for me?"

Miranda almost laughed, her lips curled in to a smile. "James wanted to make me a dress, but I'd already chosen a Dior gown. He needed to be showcased by someone." She stated dismissively, and then eyed Andrea. "And I was certain, and I'm glad I made this assumption, that you would not come prepared for such an event."

"You didn't tell me there was reason to be prepared. Editor of the year? Jesus, Miranda. You could have told me."

"I didn't think it was necessary." Miranda shrugged.

"Necessary? That's a big deal!" Andrea was ecstatic, but Miranda looked nonplused.

"Yes, well…" Miranda eyed Andrea again. How could someone so young have such poor fashion sense. Miranda could not fathom such a thing. She was a beautiful girl, with a nice figure. She should be wearing pencil skirts and trousers, not jeans and scraggly looking jackets.

"Miranda?"

"Hmm?" Miranda let her fingers brush over her lips.

"What are you looking at?" Andrea frowned.

"Your sad wardrobe decision." Miranda met Andrea's eyes.

"Right, of course you'd be focused on that." Andrea nodded. "Well, if there's nothing more, I'd like to sleep some before I have to wake up and be at this seminar on how to write a good journal article at eight in the morning."

Miranda nodded again, though she didn't really want her to leave. Not really. But what would she do if she stayed? There was nothing for them to do. They weren't going to bond over Lifetime movies and cookies. Miranda had never done such a thing and would never do such a thing, and so all she could do was release Andrea out of her suite and then return to her solitude.

* * *

But really Andrea had not wanted to leave. Not really. She had wanted to stay, but to stay would mean to suffer under Miranda's scrutinizing glare. And really what would have happened? It wasn't as if they would order up room service and make prank calls like teenagers. Miranda was definitely not like that.

But there was something about Miranda that had looked so lost, so sad. Andrea supposed she'd just wanted to stay so she could comfort the depressed looking woman. However, to comfort Miranda was something Andrea had no idea how to do. She'd never quite figured it out. When she would try, Miranda would push her away with some kind of work task. That was always Miranda's response to emotional things. More work.

But what were these strange emotions that kept emerging every time Andrea felt or knew she would be near Miranda. She wanted to be with her, but at the same time the woman scared the living daylights out of her. How could she deeply care so much about a woman who had put her through hell and then pulled her back again?

* * *

As Miranda lay down on her bed, her bathrobe falling haphazardly open, she couldn't help but wonder what these strange feelings she had for Andrea meant. She had never done anything like what she was doing now. She had no idea why she cared so much about her former assistant. The girl had, after all, left her in Paris.

But perhaps that was exactly why.

Andrea Sachs was a challenge. And Miranda Priestly loved a good challenge.

TBC...


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The seminars that Miranda had hand chosen and picked for Andrea seemed too drawn on forever. Andrea knew she should be paying closer attention, but her mind was racing a hundred miles an hour and she couldn't bring herself to slow it down. She tried, desperately, to pull information that would help her writing from each of the key note speakers, but their rhetoric whizzed over her head and was lost into the crowd seated behind her.

By noon she was finished for the day. She decided to hit the lunch that the convention was providing, perhaps grab some food and then head back to her room to disappear and write for several hours before she would need to get ready for the big event. Miranda's award reception. And Andrea was going to look amazing. Thanks to aforementioned Miranda.

As Andrea made her way into the ballroom turned lunchroom, she noticed a familiar face seated all by herself with newspapers and magazines spread out around her. Andrea grabbed some food and then made her way to the table where a certain silver-haired beauty sat.

"Working on your award day?"

"How do you expect me to keep up if I don't work?" Miranda blandly stated as she flipped the page of the magazine in front of her.

"Mind if I join you?" Andrea remembered to ask, though she was already seated a seat away from Miranda.

Miranda just shrugged and focused harder on her magazine article.

Andrea nodded her head. "You're sitting alone, I presume, because you're working on a day that it is unnecessary to work." She observed, only getting the courage to say such a thing because Miranda wasn't looking at her.

"Are you going to sit here and talk, because if you'd like to do that, then you can go sit over there…see at Emily's table?" Miranda, once again without looking, pointed towards a table full of _Runway_ people that Andrea had missed.

But Andrea didn't want to join them. She wanted to stay with Miranda, for some reason, but she also didn't want to overstep her boundary. Miranda was clearly working. Or was she? Her eyes seemed focused on the page. But Andrea's keen eyes alerted her to the fact that the page that Miranda was so thoroughly examining was an advertisement for fruit bars, and the other a blank page with a single designer name on it.

"Why do you treat me like I don't exist?" Andrea whispered.

Miranda just raised an eyebrow.

"Just talk to me, about anything. Tell me about your girls, your divorce, just say something. I don't work for you anymore; you can at least treat me like another human being." Andrea found herself saying before she could stop herself.

Andrea looked at Miranda in horror and astonishment, as her words began to sink in. She hadn't meant to say such brash things, but Miranda's lack of interest in her and silence made her crazy.

Miranda shrugged and glanced up, "you want me to talk?"

Andrea nodded her head obediently.

"You want me to tell you about my personal life?"

"Well…"

"Fine. If you really want to know…" Miranda took off her glasses and looked at Andrea, her steal blue eyes burning in to Andrea's soft browns. She looked away before continuing, seemingly afraid to look Andrea in the eyes for her following rant, "the twins cry at night because they know how much this divorce has affected them. Stephen is trying to take me for all I'm worth, claiming I'm a horrible influence on the girls, a bad parent…bad mother, and what am I supposed to do about that? I am horrible." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"No, no you're not." Andrea reached out and covered one of Miranda's hands with her.

"Don't." Miranda uncomfortably removed her hand from Andrea's, touching her hair, her shoulder, her eyes looking anywhere but at Andrea who sat shell shocked beside her. "I have to go." Miranda began collecting all of her magazines together, shoving them in to her huge tote.

"Miranda, don't go…" Andrea tried to stop her. She wanted to talk about this. Miranda clearly needed comfort, but she was pushing Andrea away. "Miranda, wait." But Andrea couldn't make a scene, not with her ex-boss, and so she sat down before she started yelling. Catching a glimpse of her watch she realized she was late to a seminar. Shit. Miranda would have to wait, she had to go…

* * *

The seminar went on forever and Andrea was lost to thoughts of Miranda and her very private outburst that she knew only she could and would ever be witness to. It was as if the striking, older woman wanted to share, but couldn't quite bring herself to. Andrea knew what she had to do. But as soon as the seminar was over she knew she wouldn't have time. Not before the award ceremony that evening anyway. And so she found food and then returned to her hotel room. The fabulous Holt dress was waiting for her in the closet with a note attached.

_Andrea-_

_Bridget will be in to help you get dressed._

_I expect to see you arrive on time at 7:00 PM sharp._

_A table will be waiting for you._

_-Miranda_

How thoughtful of her. At least this time her note had been on stationary and she had actually signed her name. The familiar handwriting seemed a comfort to Andrea and she knew then that the lovely silver-haired woman was not mad at her.

* * *

Miranda looked absolutely fabulous that evening. She entered the room and her presence was acknowledged. Everyone appeared to look at her as she made her way through the room and sat down at the table that had been designated for her.

Andrea watched her from a table away. She watched as Miranda mindlessly chatted with her tablemates. Her eyes gave away her lack of interest in the unimportant conversations, but no one seemed to notice. Except Andrea.

Emily sat dutifully beside Miranda, typing away on her new, sleek palm pilot. She seemed so blissfully unaware of the powerful woman who sat beside her at that moment. And Andrea envied her, because she was so close, to Her.

The award ceremony commenced. Miranda's award fell at the end and Andrea watched with awe as she graciously received her honor. She was so eloquent in both her speech and poise. She smiled the most amazing, almost real smile Andrea had ever seen. She seemed rather pleased with the award and herself, but Andrea could sense something underneath it all. She knew that Miranda was neither happy nor excited to receive such an honor. She knew it was probably a ploy to keep her in her job, and Andrea also knew that Miranda was not at all happy in her life at the moment.

It seemed a hollow victory.

As the night went on, Andrea kept her focus on Miranda. She watched her circulate, gaining compliments and congratulations as she went.

But when Miranda seemingly disappeared from the room, Andrea knew she had left. And so had Emily, and Bridget.

Andrea felt suddenly alone. She was left in a room full of people she did not know.

So she resolved to call it a night as well, head up the stairs and fall asleep in her big, comfortable bed.

But something seemed to pull her towards Miranda's room. It was several stories up from her own. She had not intended on going, but when she stepped on to the elevator she accidentally hit the button for the top floor. Miranda's floor.

"Oh shit." She cursed under her breath and before she could hit the correct button, she decided she would just go. Perhaps Miranda did want to talk to her. Maybe they could continue their conversation from earlier…maybe…

But no. Miranda wouldn't want Andrea around. Not at this moment…but it was too late to change her mind. The elevator doors dinged open to reveal the top floor. Andrea moved towards the suite door, raising one hand to knock. But she couldn't bring herself to do it.

And as she stood there, one hand hovering over the door, the other dangling at her side, she heard voices, coming dangerously near. She quickly backed away, running to a plant that was across the hall, trying to hide herself behind it.

"Get out! Get out!" She could hear Miranda's soft voice, that even when she was yelling barely sounded like she was yelling. It only reflected her icy tone and that was enough to make anyone scared. The door opened and out popped Bridget; she raced away, tears in her eyes. She didn't even wait for the elevator. She opened the door to the stairs and fled down them. Andrea frowned and then realized that now was maybe not a good time to interrupt Miranda.

But the door had not closed yet. Miranda was probably on the other side. And no matter how angry she was, or wasn't, Andrea still wanted to see her. Some strange force seemingly pulled her towards the door, and she stopped it before it completely shut.

"Miranda?" Her voice was soft, barely even audible.

There was no response. Only empty silence hung in the air.

"Miranda?" She tried again, her voice weak. This was pathetic.

But she stepped inside. Miranda had to be close by…

"Miranda?" She tried again. Now she was just invading her space and if she were to catch her, Andrea was afraid she might rip her head off…but something propelled her forward, deeper in to the room.

And it was then that she spotted the bottom of a beautiful Dior gown. The balcony doors were wide open and the bottom of Miranda's dress was clearly visible. She was sitting on the balcony, still fully dressed up to the nines.

"Miranda?" Andrea exhaled, finding herself at the double doors, looking out across the large lake across from the hotel. Millennium Park lingered under them and people were still out, playing in the fountains.

When Andrea finally dared to look at Miranda, she found the older woman daintily smoking a cigarette, her posture perfect as she stared out across the same massive spans of water.

"Are you all right?" Andrea found herself asking, afraid to go any closer to the stolid woman.

"Why are you here?" Miranda inquired, a cloud of smoke escaped from between her red tainted lips and Andrea couldn't breathe.

"I just..the door…was…and I…"

"Sit down." Miranda instructed. And Andrea sat. She sat on the bench across the balcony from Miranda. She studied the woman, noticing that her expression was completely blank. "I just fired that poor, helpless girl. She was getting on my nerves, couldn't do anything I told her."

"She was very helpful to me this evening when she came to help me get dressed."

Miranda just nodded. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the cool wall behind her. She looked absolutely gorgeous and Andrea had to hold herself back. But from doing what? What did she want to do to this woman?

"Where are your girls this wee…?"

Miranda shook her head. Bad topic.

"Do you want me to sit here silently?"

Miranda shrugged, and inhaled once again, this time exhaling out her mouth and into her nose, the sexiest French inhale Andrea had ever witnessed in her life.

"I didn't know you smoked."

"I didn't know you liked to break in to your former employers rooms."

Andrea felt her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She sat back, looking away from Miranda.

"Come here." Miranda instructed, once again without opening her eyes.

Andrea frowned, not sure what the woman was exactly asking her to do. But her legs took her across the balcony, her body allowed her to sit beside the beautiful woman, and for some reason she knew what Miranda wanted. She could sense it.

She was timid at first, and to her surprise Miranda was even more so. She didn't ask, didn't beg, she just allowed Andrea to press a quick kiss to her cheek, her jaw bone, her neck, her ear…Andrea hovered on her ear…her bare shoulder, arm, collarbone. Miranda didn't open her eyes until Andrea had made her way back to her chin, and then their lips collided. Andrea's lingered on Miranda's lower lip and it was at that moment that Miranda's eyelids fluttered open. Their eyes met and Andrea, for the first time, saw the need and want that burned in Miranda's crystal blues.

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Miranda couldn't seem to detach herself from the soft lips which were hungrily kissing her with a passion unmatched by any other kiss Miranda had ever allowed to happen in her life. She finally pulled herself away enough to whisper, "stop," but those gentle lips caught up to her lips almost before she could finish the word. So many questions she couldn't bring herself to ask raced through her head as she fell in to the kiss, deeper than she had wanted to.

Why did you leave me? I could handle Stephen, but I couldn't handle you…

And all those insecurities that she had so artfully suppressed surfaced again as she allowed herself to be kissed.

It took everything she had to pull away, to stop Andrea from kissing her again. She could see the questioning, begging look forming in the hazel brown eyes opposite her. Miranda tilted her head and pressed her lips together, not sure what she was feeling.

"Are you…" Andrea was about to ask Miranda if she was all right, and that was not what she wanted her to ask, not right then.

"No," Miranda quickly answered, "Don't say anything." The firmness in her voice had somehow returned and she got up and moved away from the fidgeting girl. Andrea was nervous; Miranda could tell as she walked away, back into her suite, into the bedroom. She reached around to undo her dress and it slid off her body and in to one big pile on the floor.

She briefly wondered if the girl would stay on the porch, or if she'd have enough sense to come inside where it was warmer. (Chicago weather was turning out to be quite chilly and breezy.) But really Miranda could care less what Andrea did; as long as she didn't leave. Miranda didn't want her to leave.

But she would be damned if she'd ask her to stay for the sake of staying. Miranda Priestly did not beg for company.

Miranda huffed as she pulled on her striped pajama bottoms and matching button-up top. She was resolved to be comfortable, but she could imagine that Andrea was not. As an after-thought, Miranda grabbed a robe and turned to go find the girl, but gasped when she found that Andrea was standing in the doorway of the bathroom. She looked absolutely gorgeous in that little Holt number; she had let her hair down and it hung in bent waves. Her lipstick was smeared from the one, albeit long, kiss they had shared.

Miranda took a deep breath and sighed, adverting her eyes, her tongue licking the corner of her lip. "Let's get you out of this ridiculous dress." She resolved, moving so that she was behind Andrea. She unzipped the back zipper and watched as the dress was slowly pushed down and away from Andrea's body. It revealed a perfectly shaped waistline and a tight little behind. Miranda looked, but couldn't quite react. It was just a body, like any other body she had seen in her life. Was it really that much more exciting than any other?

But her nerves were on end as she handed the robe to the younger woman and watched her turn around to put it on, she couldn't help but catch a glimpse of Andrea's small chest as she closed the robe. "Thanks," Andrea shyly remarked.

Miranda just nodded and then she was off again, off to the little living room area the suite provided. She sat down on the couch, trying to still her racing mind. There were too many thoughts…to many feelings running through her mind, her body. She couldn't think straight, she felt lost and that was a feeling she hated more than anything else.

Andrea sat beside her; the silence growing thick with unsaid words, increasing the tension between them. But Andrea would be darned if she broke the silence first; so she pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around them, staring directly at Miranda. She wasn't sure what was happening or why it was happening or what would happen later. All she knew was that she wanted to kiss her former boss again and again and she never wanted to stop. But Miranda had pulled away. So Andrea assumed it might never happen again.

And finally, after what seemed like an hour, Miranda spoke, "I didn't realize it until I got home from Paris," she inhaled, "but I was more…I think I cared more that you had left me than I cared that Stephen had. It was a shitty thing of you to do. I mean honestly, Andrea, how was I supposed to get over losing my husband and _you_." Her words were weak, but the power behind them made them sound solid.

"Losing me? I didn't think I would matter as much; aren't all your assistants dispensable?" Andrea saw her chance to dominate; she could sense Miranda losing her control.

The corners of Miranda's lips turned upwards in a sort of smile and she nodded, "bad assistants are disposable, Andrea; good assistants are rare and move up in the world."

"But why me? Wasn't I your greatest disappointment? If I remember correctly, that's what you told my current employer in your letter of recommendation." Andrea continued her stare at the side of Miranda's face, for Miranda had yet to actually look at her.

"You _were_ my greatest disappointment. I had such high hopes for you, Andrea. You were my best pupil. You learned quickly and efficiently and there was something that set you apart."

"My lack of fashion sense?" Andrea interjected with a laugh.

"This is funny to you, still?" Miranda turned on her, finally meeting her gaze head on.

Andrea shrank back. "No, no it's not funny. I just…I…" Andrea paused, "well…how do you expect me to feel…I mean what do you want me to say?"

Miranda looked away again. She didn't know.

Silence fell between them again.

It was finally Andrea who, with whatever courage she had left, moved closer to Miranda, touched her cheek with her finger. Miranda recoiled momentarily, before turning to look at Andrea. She wanted her to kiss her again.

As if Andrea read her mind, she moved even closer to the older women. Her lips pressed firmly, but gently against Miranda's, kissing her with the same fervor and passion that had grabbed hold of them moments before. Despite the fact they were completely not suitable for one another in speech or conversation, they had a strange physical connection that felt so wonderful. Kissing, it would seem, was the only thing they could agree upon. Neither dominated or acted submissive. It was a mutual kiss.

It dragged on…and on… and on…until finally they somehow fell into a sleep like state, wrapped up in one another, their lips finally coming apart sometime early the next morning.

* * *

A hand weakly shook Andrea awake, lips brushed briefly at her cheek, her neck. She pushed the mouth away, her eyes reluctantly coming open. She was in an unfamiliar room, on a large cream sofa, with Miranda Priestly hovering sleepily above her. What was happening? Andrea was so groggy. She glanced towards the outside, noticing that it was still dark. Had she slept through the day?

"Andrea," Miranda's voice was deep, thick with sleep. "Come to the bed." She reached out her hand, which Andrea took, still very confused as to what was happening. She followed Miranda into the bedroom and the two practically fell on to it. Miranda, surprisingly motherly, pulled the blankets up and around the two of them, and then, before she could fall back asleep she leaned over and kissed Andrea, an awkward, needy kiss that both surprised Andrea and elicited thoughts of the previous night's events. Miranda turned away from Andrea and mumbled, before falling back asleep, "I'm too old to sleep on the couch."

Andrea's eyes widened and then squinted, finding that it was almost five in the morning. She needed to go back to sleep. Miranda was so strange, she concluded as she turned away from her and curled up into a ball, falling, almost, immediately back to sleep.

* * *

Andrea was the first to wake up the next morning. She was surprised to find that a head full of light-gray hair was resting on her shoulder; a warm breath was exhaled against her bare chest every couple of seconds. Miranda Priestly was, if she was not mistaken, cuddling with her. And in the morning light, Miranda looked so innocent, so pure as she slept, oblivious to her surroundings and the fact that her body was so close to Andrea's.

Andrea could hardly believe this was happening. She supposed that she had wanted this; yes, she had always wanted to be this close to Miranda, to know her up close and personal. Miranda was a mystery that Andrea had always, secretly, wanted to solve. And now she was so docile and no longer in control. She was simply a woman, asleep.

Andrea felt all her fear of this domineering woman drain from her body, and she just wanted to lie in bed with her all day and feel her presence next to her.

But suddenly a faint vibrating from the bedside table alerted Andrea to the fact that Miranda's cell phone was ringing. She felt Miranda stir, her body tense, her warm lips were removed from Andrea's chest and she sat up, rather confused. Her eyes widened upon noticing Andrea next to her, so close to her. But as she examined Andrea, she reached behind her for her phone, "Hello?" Her voice was filled with sleep.

Andrea could hear a frantic Emily screaming at Miranda on the other end.

"No, no. Emily if you come in here I will make sure you never work again." Miranda's voice was firm, but her eyes were still seemingly mesmerized by Andrea's presence in her bed. "I don't care; tell them I will be there. That's all." Miranda shut the phone on Emily's muffled pleas. She quickly removed herself from the bed, tearing her eyes away from the now wide-eyed brunette who was still lying in the bed. "You let me sleep in until 10:30?" She scowled, seemingly in Andrea's direction.

"I'm pretty sure you're the one who woke me up at five this morning." Andrea was beginning to find that she much preferred Miranda asleep.

"I can't sleep on couches." Miranda reiterated her statement from the night before and Andrea couldn't help but wish she would come back to the bed so she could kiss her into submission, relieve some of her suddenly built up tension.

As Andrea watched the older woman rushing in and out of the bathroom, in random states of dress, she couldn't help but notice that the woman was in pain. Clearly she'd fallen asleep in an uncomfortable position on the couch and now her neck was bothering her. "Come here." Andrea instructed, trying to get the older woman to quit rushing around. But Miranda just glared at her and finished putting in her earrings. She already looked twelve-times better than she had that morning, but Andrea found that she liked the less put together Miranda. "Miranda, come here." Andrea tried again, sitting up in the bed.

"What?" Miranda hissed, stepping in to a pair of Manolo Blahniks, while fastening a diamond bracelet around her wrist. "I have to be at a meeting by 11:00. And I've already missed one event today."

"Shut up, and come here." Andrea hated her this stressed out. Miranda exhaled sharply and then complied. She sat on the edge of the bed, her back to Andrea. Andrea smiled at her gorgeous back. She had such a slender figure. Her hands moved gently to the base of Miranda's neck, massaging it tenderly, trying to locate the aching spot. She wasn't quite sure, but she thought she heard a faint moan escape from Miranda's thin, pale lips. Andrea grinned and leaned forward, adding kisses to her heeling hands. Miranda rolled her neck to the right, allowing Andrea to kiss the crook of her neck.

As soon as Andrea removed her lips, she pulled her hands away, in an evil move, and slid away from Miranda. "Well get going. You're going to be late."

Miranda stood up and glared at her. Straightening her shirt bottom, she raised an eyebrow at the younger woman and without further words she left.

And Andrea was alone in the huge hotel bed that moments ago had been so warm. Now it was cold and unfamiliar. She needed to leave.

Grabbing her Holt dress from the ground where they had left it, she pulled the robe tighter around herself and bolted for the door, praying to God that no one would be on the other side to catch her. And to avoid any more run-ins, she took the stairs all the way down to her level, gratefully making it in to her room before she saw anyone.

TBC...


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

It was as if it had never happened. It had all been a dream, a wonderful, yet strange, mystifying dream. That Sunday dragged on and on and surprisingly neither ran in to the other. Andrea had half expected Miranda to be on the plane with her back to New York, but it appeared that the older woman had a later flight due to some kind of convention. Andrea could hardly believe it, she felt devastated, almost as if Miranda had betrayed her.

What had the previous night meant? Had it even happened? Or had Andrea been drunker than she thought and conjured up some strange twist of events that, in reality, had never occurred.

But that couldn't be it. She hadn't had anything to drink but water. It had been Miranda who had downed several glasses of cheap champagne during the award ceremony. She'd been so distraught.

Maybe Miranda wanted to forget what had happened?

Andrea couldn't quite figure it out. She was still aboard the plane to New York, her laptop open before her, but no words were being written. Her article, which was due by the next morning no later than eight, was half-written. Poorly written at that. And everything she had learned at the convention that weekend seemed to have escaped her mind, for all she could think of to write was;

Why didn't you find me before I left, Miranda?

Was this some kind of sick joke; a retaliation of sorts for leaving Miranda in Paris?

But the look on Miranda's face the night before, when their lips had seemingly been stuck together, was so caring, so loving. It reminded Andrea of that same expression Miranda had given her then husband Stephen at a party. Andrea had observed the way she so happily stared deep into his eyes, like a love sick puppy. Clearly she had been in some kind of love with the man, though Andrea could hardly see why. He was horrible to her.

But that look, those caring blue eyes, had to have meant something. Miranda didn't seem like the type to just ignore a one night…well one night…what was it? A one night make-out session? She seemed like the kind who would at least follow-up the next day. Or so Andrea had thought.

But now she was far away from the silver-haired temptress and she hadn't so much as received a phone call or text.

Andrea let her head subtly bang against the airplane window. Why had she sought out Miranda the night before? Why did she have to kiss her? Why had she stayed? Why did she have to care about _her_? The devil herself.

And then it suddenly dawned on her.

Andrea was head over Prada heels in love with Miranda and she had no idea why.

And this whole ignore after kissing deal was not working for her. She was going to have to handle this as soon as she was not 23,000 feet above the world.

But true to form Miranda had already handled it.

The instant Andrea stepped off her flight and turned on her phone, she was surprised to find she had three missed calls and one text message. Two calls were from Lily, clearly wondering where she had disappeared to that weekend, and the third number looked vaguely familiar.

Only Lily had left a message on Andrea's phone, the mystery number had not.

It wasn't until Andrea checked the text message that the number registered in her head.

'Sorry that I missed you before you left. Too many meetings, people. Will dinner on Tuesday at 8 be all right for you? MP'

Andrea's breath caught in her throat. She was only pulled out of her surprised state when a man accidentally bumped into her and yelled some horrendous obscenities in her direction, which fell on deaf ears, for all Andrea could think of was the text she had just received.

She frantically began typing out a response, realizing, however, that Miranda would be aboard a plane by now. Her phone was most likely turned off. But no matter, she typed her reply anyway.

'Yes. I'm free. Where were you thinking?'

And before she could proofread or think about sounding polite, prim and proper, or correct, she sent the text. She nuzzled the phone in her hand as she stepped out into the busy New York street, praying that a cab would quickly get her home. She wanted to toss off her shoes and crawl into her own bed and sleep. Her restless night with Miranda the night before had left her tired.

And yet…and yet she wished it would happen again that night. She wanted to crawl into bed, her bed, but with Miranda. Miranda, whose lips were so soft, so gentle. The complete opposite of Miranda, the woman.

Andrea slid in to a cab that a worker flagged down for her. She stepped in and pulled her one duffel bag close to her. She glanced, anxiously, down at her cell phone. There was still not a reply. Though she hadn't expected one. Not so quickly anyway. She had to have left Chicago several hours later than Andrea.

A couple of minute later and Andrea found herself in front of her apartment building. She stepped out of the cab, handing him a waded up twenty, and moved to enter her apartment. It felt nice to be home. And with the hope that Miranda would definitely text her back, Andrea stepped in to her apartment. She locked the door behind her and tossed her bag to the side. Stumbling out of her shoes and pants, she made her way to the bed. She collapsed on top of it, holding firmly on to her cell phone. But before she could feel that familiar vibration and chiming of her ringtone, she fell into a deep, deep sleep.

* * *

Miranda Priestly was exhausted. She had not stayed up so late in a long, long while. She had especially not stayed up so late due to making out in a long, long while.

But she was glad to be home, she realized, as she let herself in to her apartment. Taking a deep breath she exhaled, setting her bag down beside her in the hallway. It would be moved by tomorrow, someone would move it, she was sure. And if not, then she would move it, but for now she was going to go upstairs. She was going to go upstairs to her room and she was going to go to sleep. _Runway_ would be waiting for her in the morning.

She was glad that her girls were not home, but off with their dad. He had agreed to take him for the weekend, but it had been like pulling teeth to get him to do so. They needed time with him, or so Miranda thought. They needed to be with their father. Didn't they?

Though Caroline had called earlier that day, begging for Miranda to pick them up that evening; Miranda had been forced to tell her that she would not be home at an early enough hour to retrieve them. They needed their sleep for school the following day. She promised they would see her the next night. She had left it completely open, after work, of course, just for her girls.

But now, now Miranda had a chance to figure out what had just transpired in the last twenty-four hours. As she made her way up the torturous staircase, toward the bedroom she had once shared with two of her husbands, she felt something forming in her eyes. Heavy wetness.

Crying was pointless, unnecessary, but she was helpless to stop it. Droplets spilled over her eyelids; they slid, like a lover's finger, down her cheek, and then down her neck. She didn't know why this was happening. What was she crying about? Tears had already happened months ago when the separation had occurred. When Stephen had attempted to call her out on her poor mothering, attempting to gain partial custody over her girls, not because he wanted them, but because he knew that would get to her. And it had. She had broken down and cried like she hadn't for years.

But these tears had nothing to do with that. The tears, for some reason, had to do with Andrea. Something about not seeing her, not being with her that day. The previous night Miranda had felt so warm, comfortable. It had been easy to be with Andrea, even if their conversations had been horrible. Miranda hadn't been able to completely open up, to set her pride aside long enough to actually allow real conversation.

She almost hated herself.

And she had completely ignored Andrea until she had already left. Not entirely by choice, she had been busy. Very busy. That was the trouble with her and relationships. She was always busy.

Too busy for these ridiculous relationships, marriages. What was she thinking marrying Stephen, or Henry for that matter. She could have survived after divorcing her first husband. All by herself, with her girls. She didn't need these huge, public relationships smeared across the tabloids to keep herself whole in the public eye. The only real relationship that she had really felt anything in had happened years ago, before all her huge publicity and notoriety began. It had been with a beautiful artist named Clarissa. She had been absolutely gorgeous and the sex…well it had been fabulous.

Jesus, Miranda hadn't thought about her in ages. The very thought drove her to deeper tears. She hadn't allowed that devastating loss to cross her mind in a long, long, long time.

No, she couldn't go there. She tried to shake herself out of it, unbuttoning her shirt, undoing her skirt. She slipped out of her clothes and tried to wipe at her tears. She resolved that it was late and she was sleep deprived.

But as she fell in to her bed, thoughts of the previous night's activities flooded through her mind and she couldn't help but let a small smile creep across her tear-stained face. She had wanted so much from that night, and she had received almost everything she could have wanted. But what had Andrea thought about it? The girl had eagerly kissed her, but had she felt obliged to do so?

Miranda didn't know what to think. She was exhausted, turned on, confused, and frustrated.

Rolling over she allowed her hand to snake its way down to her wet core. She pleasured herself, in an unfulfilling, depressing way, not even gaining an orgasm. She debated doing it again, but realized she wasn't going to get to her edge. Not tonight.

Rolling onto her back, she stared up at her ceiling.

She willed herself to go to sleep. She would be overly snappy the following day if she didn't sleep. Not that anyone would really notice a difference.

She tried snuggling into her very expensive sheets, but not even they provided comfort for her. They just felt cold and empty compared to Andrea's warm body beside her.

And then she remembered the text message. Had Andrea responded? Or had she been pissed that Miranda had unintentionally ignored her all day?

With a surprising burst of energy and agility, she slipped out of the bed and down the stairs, to her purse which she had dropped on the second floor. She flipped open her phone and powered it on. As it lit up and flashed in her hand, she suddenly felt a nervous feeling flutter through her body. What if she hadn't texted back? Miranda would be completely embarrassed for having called and texted her.

But as the phone finally came to its on position and registered the several phone calls she had missed, mostly from work, Miranda noticed she had several texts. She took a deep breath and clicked in to her text message inbox and flipped through until she saw what she had wanted to see. She sighed and rolled her eyes in relief.

Andrea had responded.

'Yes. I'm free. Where were you thinking?'

Miranda breathed an audible sigh of relief and hit the 'reply' button.

'Torre di Pisa.'

She simply typed, knowing that restaurant was always a good place for a romantic dinner. Romantic? Would it be romantic?

Well…the text was sent. And all Miranda could do now was wait. Wait for dinner.

Now she needed sleep.

She dragged herself back upstairs, to her bed, and lay down. It was then that a slight shuffle could be heard outside her door. A paw pushed the door open and in came Patricia, her dog. "Come here, baby." Miranda sighed, patting the spot beside her. The dog complied and hopped its way into the bed. Miranda tangled her fingers in the dog's long fur. There was something about petting Patricia that made her calm.

And despite her best attempt to fall asleep, she just couldn't.

She was in and out of a sleep-like state until her alarm blasted in her ear the following morning.

Another day of work.

She would act as if nothing had happened.

* * *

'Torre di Pisa.'

Andrea had heard of it. She knew it was expensive and well known for its delicious looking and tasting dishes. She was excited, elated. But she hardly had time to think about it. Her article was still not finished, and it was nearing the eight am deadline.

She willed her mind to think faster, her words to flow. But she felt an added pressure, for she knew that Miranda might read this article. She knew she would catch all the errors, weak words Andrea would chose. Though it would run through _The Mirrors_ editor, not all of her poor choices would get deleted.

She quickly typed her way to a conclusion, and then allowed her eyes to race over the document. Several grammatical errors, which she corrected, later and she sent the document to her boss, beginning her hectic Monday with a quick shower, followed by choosing an outfit for the frigid New York day.

She hardly had time to think about her dinner date and text messaging conversation with Miranda until she was seated at her desk at _The Mirror_. Only then did she wonder if Miranda had wanted a response. Or would that be too needy? Would Miranda find it a turn off, or a sweet gesture?

Andrea decided it would be bad, and so as much as she wanted to text Miranda, to break in to her day in some way, she refrained from doing so.

Though her thoughts, throughout the day, hardly strayed from her silver-haired ex-boss turned…kissing buddy…she had to focus on her work. But one question bugged her.

What was this strange relationship they had gotten themselves into?

TBC...


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

But Monday morning presented an entirely new predicament for Miranda. Irv caught her off guard, distracting her in a way which she hated more than any other. He stepped on to the elevator with her. She had rolled her eyes and edged her way into a corner, away from him.

"Good morning, Miranda." He uncaringly inquired. Despite his place as Miranda's boss, even he was slightly afraid of her.

Instead of replying, Miranda nodded at him, her mouth stretching from annoyed to a faux smile.

"I had someone who wanted to meet you this weekend. He was at the conference, Clinton Russell. He's in charge of the new _Spotlight_ magazine that is due out next month."

"Why would he want to meet me?" Miranda hissed, praying that the elevator would go faster.

"He would like to discuss business with you. He likes your editing, and he would be a wonderful person to have beneath our company."

"What are you suggesting, Irv?" Miranda seemed to know where this was going. This sort of arrangement would have been fine twenty years or so ago, but to ask her to do this now was juvenile. She supposed Irv wanted her to suffer for taking Jacqueline Follet from beneath him. So she knew she would be forced into this unfortunate situation whether she wanted to be or not.

"He wants to have dinner with you. This evening. I've already planned it for you."

Miranda knew not to fight. Tonight had been her night with the girls, but she would not make an excuse. She would take it, and she would do it. She supposed so owed Irv. The girls would understand, she supposed.

"Natsumi, 7 PM sharp. Don't be late, or I swear to God Miranda…" the elevator doors clicked open and Irv didn't have time to finish his sentence.

Miranda frowned, watching as the elevator doors closed behind Irv. She hated him, more than ever. She should have his job, she was overly qualified and she wouldn't play her female employees like he so lovingly loved to do. She abhorred him.

* * *

She was not looking forward to this dinner. She could actually careless about it. But she was going.

As she sat in the back of her town car, mulling over how the girls were going to hate her, and how she was never going to have a free night…thoughts of Andrea flashed through her mind. The girl, her lips, her body…

But she couldn't have those thoughts, not tonight. Tonight she had to fake her way through a dinner with a prospective business partner. Irv was always looking for ways to bring in new business. He was smart, but his ways were old-fashioned.

Roy arrived at Natsumi. He parked the car and then moved to let Miranda out. She stepped out of the car and moved towards the restaurant. As soon as she was about to step inside, she felt her phone vibrating. She stopped walking and turned away from the entrance, knowing it would look bad for her to enter talking on the phone. But when she glanced down at the caller ID and saw that it was Andrea, she knew she shouldn't take it.

But something made her answer. "What?"

"Miranda?"

"Andrea, what do you want?"

"What are you doing?"

"I have a dinner…thing. I can't talk."

"All right, sorry."

"I'll call you later." She would call her later?

"Oh…all right." Andrea sounded shocked.

Miranda was shocked. Before she could say anything else embarrassing, she hung up and tossed her phone deep into her purse.

The maître'de ushered her in, towards a table in the back of the room. And from that table arose the most handsome man. His sandy-brown hair shimmered in the dim, recessed lighting of the restaurant. His body, though covered with smart business clothes, looked very built, and through his relaxed button up shirt, Miranda could see his biceps. And suddenly she began to question if her quick switch to lesbianism was for naught.

"Miranda." Her name rolled off his tongue, his tone caressing it.

"Clinton?" She frowned, extending her hand towards him. His handshake was firm.

"Sit," he pulled the chair out for her, and she seemed to be slightly under his spell. But Andrea's voice was still ringing in her ear, her lips still felt like they'd just left her skin.

"I hear you want to talk business." Miranda decided to get down to it.

Clinton laughed, "no, no. I wanted to meet you. You're a legend, you know." He poured her a glass of wine and pushed a plate of sushi towards her.

"Oh," Miranda waved him off and took the wine from him. It had been so long since a man had wined and dined her and had been polite and sincere about it. But he was so young….and Andrea….

"I tried to talk to you after you received your award on Saturday, but I couldn't seem to get to you. So I ran into Irv and he guaranteed a meeting."

"Did he?" Miranda nodded.

"Yes. What are you wearing tonight?" He asked, his eyes freely scanning her body, taking her in.

She allowed him to revel in her beauty, though she felt slightly as if she were on display. For having done the same to many of her employees, she now realized how uncomfortable and offsetting it made them feel. She was nervous. "Chanel." She purred, sipping her wine. The glass was almost empty.

Clinton refilled it. "Sushi?"

"Sure." Miranda grinned, and before she could pick up her chop-sticks, he had already dipped a California roll into soy sauce and was holding it dangerously close to her face. She wasn't sure what to feel, but she took the sushi into her mouth.

She quickly tried to change the direction of the sexual tension that seemed to have popped out of nowhere and was mounting by the second. "So you're starting a new magazine?"

"Yes, _Spotlight_. It's gossipy, high fashion. It's going to be International, huge." He boosted with manly egotism.

"Sounds fabulous." Miranda accepted another sushi from his proffered chopsticks. "But, hopefully it won't be in competition with _Runway_."

"Oh no, never." He grinned.

She didn't like his grin. She didn't even really like that he was filling her wine glass, again. But for some reason she allowed him to do so. She was losing all self-control. She was out of her right-mind.

A couple more glasses of wine later and Miranda was completely gone. She was still capable of making her own decisions, but everything seemed hazy. Clinton had paid the bill, they stepped out the door and Miranda lit up a cigarette. She had started smoking again after her recent divorce. Clinton didn't seem to mind. He even took it from her and puffed away on it.

She unsteadily leaned against him, waiting for him to finish his puff off her cigarette before taking it away from him. "You know Irv wants you under him." She realized the truth was coming out.

"I figured as much. It wouldn't be a horrible idea. It would create stability."

"But he'll want to wait until you've had a successful first year."

"I could imagine."

"Where are we going?" Miranda had no idea where they were or why they were walking.

"We're walking."

"We're just walking?" She hadn't allowed herself to get this intoxicated in years. What was happening?

"Yeah, I live around here somewhere."

"Oh, no, no, no. I can't come home with you." Miranda shook her head. This was wrong; but she wanted to. Her body was swimming, a bundle of nerves everywhere. Each time Clinton accidentally ran into her a shiver went down her spine.

"Why not?"

"My daughters…my job…" Andrea, "it's wrong. This is wrong." But his lips were on hers before she could protest.

"My apartments over there." He pointed, and Miranda realized where they were and what they were doing. Her mind was yelling 'no!' but her body wanted it. Her body needed it.

They were in his apartment, a sleek, black, bachelor pad. Miranda could tell he was a ladies' man. It was obvious that she was not the only one to come home with him after one date. As she began to take in his apartment, she felt his arms around her, pulling her coat off of her. Next to go was her button up shirt, his hands were roughly on her breasts, lips hungrily sucking at her lips. She couldn't help but yearn for Andrea's soft kiss, but all thoughts of that night they had spent together went out the window when she found her head falling against soft, black pillows.

She let out a moan as she felt hands parting her bare legs. "Condom?" She breathed, knowing that he should be smart enough to have some on hand. Lord only knew she didn't carry them.

He nodded and continued to massage her legs, her arms, as he moved to his bedside table. He pulled a condom out and placed it over his very erect penis. She couldn't help but find it intoxicating and intriguing. She was drunk, she had to be. She felt him enter her, pressing her legs apart. She moaned and allowed him to thrust into her. Her shirt was still on, it rolled up and down with her body. Her boobs were straining to get out of her bra. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer to her, her hands moving to his butt. She wanted it rougher, harder. He was going too slow. She needed this.

She cried out, moaning as he started going harder, nearing his own climax. She groaned and allowed him to pull her over with him. It was a sweet release when she finally got her orgasm. Or whatever it was. It wasn't the best she'd ever had, it wasn't even that fulfilling. But it had been better than masturbating and she had gotten a release.

She fell back onto the bed and allowed Clinton to draw himself out. He got out of the bed and went into the bathroom. She heard him pull off the condom and toss it into the trashcan. He relieved himself and Miranda stretched out on the bed. It had been too long since her last sexual escapade.

But this was wrong. Completely wrong. She hadn't lost her good judgment this bad in a long, long while.

And Andrea…her soft touch, soft kiss….oh, God. This was horribly wrong. Miranda had to leave. She had to get out of there.

She sat up, adjusting her bra and buttoning her shirt up.

"Where are you going?" He asked, swooping down to kiss her.

"I have to go, home. To my….daughters." She answered distractedly, leaning down to pick up her underwear and the skirt she had dropped moments before.

"Don't go, I want you tonight."

"You've had me tonight." Miranda snapped, realizing that her cold hard demeanor wasn't going to work in this instance.

"Come back to bed." Clinton begged.

She shook her head and held up her hand, silencing him.

"Can I call you at least? Can we have dinner again?"

"Yeah…sure, maybe sometime…" she just wanted to leave.

"All right, dinner. Friday." He had already decided.

Miranda just pulled her coat on and grabbed her bag.

Out the door she went, down the elevator.

How was she going to get home?

What had she done?

Once out on the street she dug through her bag, searching for a cigarette and a cell phone. She looked like hell and she hoped that the paparazzi were far, far away. And as soon as her hands collided with her cell phone, she noticed the time and also noticed a text. From Andrea. "Fuck." She cursed, lighting her cigarette.

'Well, I guess your business thing went long. I'm going to bed. See you tomorrow night.'

"Fuck," Miranda had screwed up. This was all wrong. This was a mess.

She dialed her driver and told him where she was. She didn't care when he pulled up and saw her outside an apartment building, looking completely sexed. She got in and moved to the window. She wasn't going to cry…no. No tears. Not tonight.

But Andrea's text made her so mad at herself.

She hated herself, she couldn't even begin to imagine what Andrea would think of her.

She had a good enough mind to go to Andrea's house and beg for forgiveness. But why? It was obvious she had just been having sex with a man…Andrea would hate her more.

But it wasn't exactly like they were in a relationship….not entirely.

Miranda was fucked.

In more than one way.

TBC...


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The next morning was hell. Miranda felt like she'd just run a marathon in heels. Everything hurt. So much for trying to forget the previous night's events. A shower couldn't even erase the feeling of Clinton between her legs.

The tears came, flooding her eyes as she stood beneath an icy cold spray of water. She was a horrible person.

She had failed her daughters and she had failed Andrea.

The girl wasn't going to forgive her, not for this. This was an awful thing for her to do. They had been on the cusp of a relationship and Miranda had gone and fucked it up.

She was freezing, her body so cold. But she couldn't seem to pull herself from the shower. She wanted to punish herself. But when she began to shiver, she decided it was time to get out. She had promised herself she would get up and make her daughter's breakfast, to make up for the previous night. At least they would be able to forgive her. They understood their mother was very busy.

After Miranda dried her hair and applied her face for the day, she quickly pulled on a cream shirt and cardigan, matching it with sleek pin-stripe pants. She slipped into a fiery red pair of heels and then headed downstairs.

She made oatmeal, and as soon as she began pouring it into bowls, her sleepy girls made their way down the stairs. "Morning, babies." She welcomed them with kisses, her stomach churning. She felt nauseous.

"You were gone late last night, mom." Caroline had to mention it.

"I know, I'm sorry. Maybe we can watch a movie Wednesday night." Miranda was going to make this situation better. She knew she could at least right her wrong with her daughters.

The girls ate and Miranda slipped into the bathroom, throwing up what little she had just consumed.

Today was going to be hell.

* * *

Andrea was eagerly awaiting the dinner. It had been too long since she had seen Miranda. Two days to be exact. And their phone conversation had been less than satisfactory. Miranda had sounded busy, occupied. She needed her, craved her, wanted to kiss her, to touch her. She felt a distance between them. A distance she didn't want.

She could barely focus at work that day. Her editor called her in, pointing out several mistakes she had made in a revision. She was so completely out of it.

When the end of the day came, she couldn't wait to grab a taxi home to quickly change. Change into a little Yves Saint Laurent number she'd picked up the day before. Everything was in order, her hair flawless, make-up to boot. She looked stunning.

And when she arrived at that restaurant and stepped inside, everyone looked.

Everyone except the one person she wanted to see.

Miranda had her back turned to her. She looked stunning from behind in a little black dress. Her back was bare, her milky skin looked smooth in the dim lighting of Torre di Pisa.

She walked up to Miranda and let her hand graze against the exposed skin, causing Miranda to shiver and look up. She seemed distracted, her smile forced, her lips taut when Andrea leaned down to kiss her. The kiss didn't last near as long as it should have and Miranda quickly looked away.

At first Andrea thought it was because she didn't want to be seen in public kissing a former employee, but she would soon learn that was not it at all.

Andrea took her seat and leaned forward, studying the older woman, who, in turn, studied her menu. Her eyes weren't even looking at the page, not really. They were unfocused.

"Hey, what's going on?" Andrea asked, reaching out to touch Miranda's hand, but Miranda slowly slinked away.

"What do you mean?" Miranda was buying time.

"You're distracted, you…have you been crying?" Her eyes were red, puffy.

Miranda looked away, clearly not liking this analysis of what she had and had not been doing. She closed her eyes, a single tear dripping down her cheek. She shook her head.

"What is it, honey?" Andrea's voice was so concerned.

"Don't…" Miranda started, but stopped. Andrea sat back. "Quit being so nice, I don't deserve your niceness."

"What are you talking about?" Andrea frowned.

"I'm a horrible person, Andrea." Miranda stared right at her, but gradually lost the nerve to look her right in the eyes as she went on, "I'm a bad, bad person. I think you should get far away from me…I…I…" Miranda looked away again.

"What are you…what's happened, Miranda?" Andrea was beginning to worry. This wasn't at all how the night was supposed to go.

"I wanted to wait, for us… to wait…I wanted it to be special…and I fucked it up…I totally screwed up…you don't ever have to talk to me again, I would understand…if you didn't" Miranda was intelligibly mumbling.

"Miranda." Andrea silenced her. "What are you saying?"

"I screwed up, Andrea. I always come in and screw everything up."

"What-"

"I fucked some…guy last night." Miranda's voice was sharp, but soft.

A surprised silence settled between them. Andrea opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

"Oh God." Miranda had never been so broken in public before. She didn't know what to do. She felt nauseous again. She got up and moved quickly towards the bathroom, making it just in time before she threw up.

She stayed in the bathroom, washed her mouth out thoroughly, taking her time, for she was sure that when she got back to the table, she would be alone.

She hadn't expected to tell her, she hadn't wanted to tell her. But it had slipped out. Though she had deeply wanted their relationship to be honest and open, she was still surprised that it had just flooded out of her mouth. She had sounded like a babbling idiot, as if it would make a difference. Andrea didn't have to forgive her.

Miranda had messed up potentially the best relationship of her life before it had even begun.

Gathering up her courage to return to the table, grab her purse, and dart back home before she started really crying, she stepped out of the bathroom. And the instant she did, the wind was knocked out of her.

Andrea was still there. She looked as if she hadn't moved in the last five or so minutes that Miranda had been gone.

The only difference from moments before was that Andrea had found her words.

"What the hell, Miranda?" Andrea snapped, she looked very pissed.

Miranda didn't speak. She wanted Andrea to get it all out.

"You had sex with some guy last night? Was he some random guy? Have you been seeing him? Were you seeing him this weekend? Were you cheating on him with me? God, Miranda. How many times have you cheated on someone? Oh my God, you're not trustworthy. That's why you've been divorced so many times. Oh God. Why did I think that I would be different? I'm just a play thing to you!"

"No!" Miranda screamed, she hadn't meant to yell. She glanced around and then lowered her voice, "no. You were not just a play thing. Don't you ever think that. Ever." Miranda snapped, surprised by how much she cared that this girl knew how much she cared for her.

This seemed to surprise Andrea as well. The girl fell silent for a moment. But the silence only lasted a short while. Andrea opened her mouth to ask why? Why she mattered? But the words didn't come.

"I…I don't know what to think about…I just…I need to leave." Andrea suddenly decided.

It was fair; after all Miranda had expected her to leave moments ago. "All right." Miranda nodded, knowing this wasn't the first time she had been abandoned in public at a restaurant.

She deserved it, she supposed. She always ruined a good thing. It was as if she enjoyed being hurt and hurting others. She was beginning to wonder if she got pleasure out of making people feel like shit. She watched as Andrea hesitated before standing up. It was as if she didn't want to leave, or something.

And Andrea, in turn, saw, for the first time how broken Miranda truly was. She almost pitied her.

But she had to leave, to get away from Miranda. She had to think it through.

Miranda watched as the brunette fully stood up and placed her napkin on top of her unused plate. She watched as Andrea grabbed her purse, and she watched the girl leave her vision. She didn't turn to watch her walk away; she just sat and stared at the empty chair across from her.

She deserved this. She was a horrible person.

But then suddenly a small, cold hand fell on her shoulder and she jumped. Surprise defined the line in her brow when she looked up to find Andrea coming ever closer to her. Their lips met. Andrea's lips moved timidly, but Miranda, willing to show how sorry she was in that one connection, allowed her lips to move feverishly, as if by kissing Andrea so deeply, so passionately it would make her stay. It was awkward, and she was sure the entire restaurant was staring, but she didn't care. She placed her hands on the brunette's cheeks, trying to deepen the already deep kiss.

Andrea came up to breathe, surprised by Miranda's public display, somehow thrown off by the older woman's needy lips.

She had gotten the answer to her question…but she wanted the woman to suffer.

So she turned and left. Left for good this time.

Miranda shriveled up, suddenly very aware of the people who were sitting next to her. She had to leave. She tossed a twenty on the table and called for her car.

She was back at her townhouse in no time, lying tear-stained and half-dressed on her bathroom floor. She hoped her girls wouldn't come and find her. She looked pathetic.

* * *

Andrea hadn't been able to leave. Not like that. She had to know. She had to find out if Miranda still cared for her, or if it had all just been some big lie. She had gone back to test the woman, to see if she would be willing to potentially get caught making out with her ex-assistant in a restaurant. If she did then it might just prove her loyalty. And prove was exactly what she had done.

Andrea had been nearly in shock. The woman was a mess, the kiss had been a mess, but Miranda had wanted it so badly. She had wanted for Andrea to forgive her. She needed Andrea.

She was a broken person and Andrea wasn't sure she was ready for the task of helping one Ms. Miranda Priestly. It all just seemed too much….

…but deep down she cared for Miranda. Even after what she had done to her. That had to say something, didn't it? Miranda had done the unspeakable. She'd fucked some guy on a whim. Who was to say she wouldn't do it again?

Though Andrea had no idea, she knew that deep down she still had very, very strong feelings for the silver-haired woman. Feelings that somehow couldn't be broken by this huge faux pas.

She would give it a week. Maybe it just hadn't settled in yet. Maybe she wasn't mad enough yet. Maybe she needed time.

And so she would give herself time. And Miranda some time to sweat. Miranda had always been so good at making Andrea sweat, so now it was her turn to turn the tables on her former boss from hell.

And even though she wanted to forget everything and just sleep that night, she couldn't help but wish Miranda was there, innocent as she had been nights before, cuddling up beside her. And those steel, blue eyes didn't vanish until the next morning when Andrea realized what had happened.

TBC...you people should review. I know you're reading. Don't make me withold the next part from you...tsk. lol


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The worst, most unimaginable thing occurred that Wednesday. The press had gotten a hold of some rather interesting, if not incriminating photos of Miranda. They were plastered everywhere from online blogs to juicy gossip magazines.

It had not been the employees of _Runway_ who had brought it to Miranda's attention, nor her driver, or any of her press informants. No, it had been her own two daughters who came running and bounding into their mother's room, Caroline's pink MacBook in her hand as they jumped onto their mother's bed, waking her from a restless night of sleep. "Mom!" Cassidy cried, gently shaking her.

"What?" Miranda frowned, suddenly coming out of sleep, turning onto her back, rubbing her eyes. "What is it, girls?" She hadn't been awakened like this since her second divorce had been tossed around in the media and some interesting pictures of her and Henry had surfaced.

"Look!" Caroline held her MacBook open, sitting it on top of her mother's chest.

It took Miranda's eyes several minutes to focus, but when the picture finally came into view she could hardly breathe.

"Mommy, when did this happen?" Cassidy frowned at her mother.

"Why did they take that picture of you; are you smoking?" Caroline was once again scrutinizing the picture, trying to make out what exactly it was that her mother was doing and trying to register who her mother was with.

"I really wish you wouldn't look me up on the internet." It was the only response Miranda could think of to make. She was absolutely furious, but she wouldn't take it out on her babies.

"Mom!" Caroline protested, attempting to explain that it had popped up, but Miranda didn't want to hear it.

"Girls, it's not what it looks like, I promise." She didn't feel the need to explain herself, her actions. After all she was the adult, they were the children. She pulled herself out of the bed and into her bathroom. A quick shower might clear her mind, but she realized she would have a lot of work to do that day. A lot of covering for herself. She was going to kill Irv.

"…caught kissing after a romantic dinner…" she heard her girls reading the article. Hadn't she told them to stop, to ignore it?

She really needed to keep an eye on herself. She sometimes forgot she was always being watched, monitored. She forgot she couldn't trust anyone.

When she finally emerged from a hot shower, she pulled on a smart outfit for the day, made final touches to her face, and returned to her bedroom where the girls were still mesmerized by the different articles they'd come up with.

"Who is this person?" Caroline dared to ask.

"Caroline, that is none of your business. You will never meet that person, I will see to it that you never, ever meet that person. Your mother was set up, that is all there is to it. Okay, girls?"

The girls looked at one another and then nodded.

"Now, stop looking at that trash and go get ready for school before I take your computer away from you." Miranda instructed, trying to keep her rage from her children.

The girls quickly jumped to and then raced out of her room. She closed the door behind them and then went to her lingerie drawer where she hid a pack of cigarettes. Moving to the window, she opened it and lit a cigarette.

Today was going to be hell all over again.

~*~

The instant Miranda set foot in her office she knew she would have to deal with this situation. She would have to minimize any more press and make sure that the supplier got a good lawsuit slapped on him. Though she knew who the real snitch was, she wouldn't turn it into a big deal. She would play nice, because that was exactly what he didn't want her to do.

When he had the gull to walk into her office that morning and slam Page Six, with incriminating photo, on to her desk, she almost smacked him.

"Jacqueline wouldn't have brought us such horrible press." He had the nerve to utter.

"Jacqueline wouldn't be smart enough to see it as bad press. Tell me, Irv, how much did you get out of this little picture? Hmm?" She bore in to him.

"Enough to pay for next month's issue and the one after that." He boldly admitted to his wrongs. "You'd better watch your back, Ms. Priestly."

Miranda had the mind to snap back, but she knew that she would get her revenge soon enough. She angrily flinched at Irv's retreating form, as if she were about to pounce at him, and then calmly went back to e-mailing her attorney.

The one thing she did not want to do was make the phone call she was about to make.

She made sure that prying ears and eyes were not around before she picked up her phone. She moved to her furthest window and dialed the familiar number.

She didn't expect anyone to answer, and when she got the machine she decided it was better than nothing. She hated doing this, she'd never lowered herself this low for anyone else; but she was worth it. Miranda could feel it in her bones, her body.

"…leave a message after the beep…" her voice was so pure, so childlike. Miranda hated her, yet envied her a little. She could be so careless…Miranda on the other hand had to watch every step.

"I know you saw it, how could you not see it? But I just want to go on the record and say that I told you what happened before this surfaced. And everything that happened last night is real and true, and I don't…It should not have happened. Sorry."

She hung up. The _sorry_ had almost been inaudible and she knew the message was weak. And the unsaid words _I don't want to lose you again_ had been too hard to articulate. Even harder to say was the backbone and reason for the message.

_I care about you_.

Miranda wasn't sure what she would do if the girl never contacted her again.

She supposed she would go on living. She would find someone else…

…but it would never be the same.

She had to make things right. She just had to.

~*~

Andrea had seen it. She wasn't blind. It was everywhere.

She felt humiliated.

Humiliated to have believed that this icon, this fashion goddess, or devil, could ever return her feelings of unabashed love.

There she was, beautiful as ever, maybe even a bit more beautiful because of her relaxed expression, leaning drunkenly against the most handsome man Andrea had ever seen in her life. He was gorgeous, nothing like Andrea's boring, scraggly figure. His face seemed chiseled out of stone; Andrea's own looked rather plan. Of course Miranda would sleep with this gorgeous man. Of course. Why had Andrea thought otherwise?

But that kiss…the previous night at Torre di Pisa. Oh God that kiss.

But Miranda had fucked up. And it had taken the early morning light to show Andrea the truth. Miranda needed to get erased from her life. And these pictures of the silver-haired woman with a one Mr. Clinton Russell just punctuated the need for her to get away.

And as Andrea stood in line at the local bakery, waiting to get her hands on a bagel and a warm cup of coffee before heading off to work, she felt her phone beginning to vibrate.

She quickly reached into her purse, wondering if it was her boss over at _The Mirror_. However, when she got to her phone and turned it right side up, she realized it was not from her boss. It was from her former boss.

_Miranda_.

Miranda was calling her. Wonderful. What could she possibly have to say?

Andrea didn't want to know. She didn't want to talk to the woman. She never wanted to see her again.

She tossed the phone back into her purse after silencing it and stepped up to order.

~*~

Once at work, Andrea sat down and got to work. She had several articles to research for that day and she didn't need any further distractions. But when her hand grazed her cell phone in her search for Chap Stick, she flipped it open, noting a new voice message.

Pathetic. She decided. Miranda was pathetic. She wasn't going to listen to that message. Nope.

~*~

The voice message sat restlessly in the corner of the phone's screen, waiting to be checked. It sat just as the huge pain sat in Andrea's stomach.

It was at the back of her mind as she typed, researched, pulled files, made phone calls.

All morning that message annoyed her.

She wasn't going to listen to it.

~*~

Her lunch break came around. She grabbed her purse and her phone. But upon seeing that ugly purple symbol, suggesting she had a voice message, she sat the phone down on the counter and decided to leave without it.

She hoped she didn't get kidnapped because she wouldn't have a phone.

~*~

When she returned from her break, the message, mysteriously, was still there.

~*~

She couldn't keep this up! She couldn't concentrate and have that message sitting on her phone.

She finally gave in. During a quick break to walk around the corner for more coffee, she pulled out her phone. She pressed 1 for voicemail. She typed in her four digit code. She waited as the annoying operator voice monotonaly dictated that she had one new message and four saved messages that would be erased in fourteen days. She nervously paced back and forth in front of the bistro she had just walked out of, fresh coffee in hand. Her fingers taped nervously against the cup.

She nearly fell down when Miranda's voice sounded on the other end.

"I know you saw it, how could you not see it? But I just want to go on the record and say that I told you what happened before this surfaced. And everything that happened last night is real and true, and I don't…It should not have happened."

And what sounded like a muted _sorry_ completed the message.

Andrea didn't know what to feel. The woman was really eaten up by this. She really wanted her to know how sorry she was and how much she meant to her. But why? How could Miranda possibly want her so much?

And what had Miranda been about to say? 'I don't…' what? Why couldn't she just say what she wanted?

Andrea hated how frustrating and infuriating the woman was. She could never just say what she was really feeling. Only a few times had she ever actually opened up, and it had been a scarce few.

Feeling more confused than ever, Andrea returned to her work.

A week. She was sticking to a week.

Perhaps in a week things would be different.


	11. Chapter 11

Sorry this isn't updated. The document manager wasn't letting me upload documents etc. So this is what we're gonna do...if you want the next chapter, I want at least three reviews. I know, I'm evil like that. So I have up to like 18 chapters written and ready to go, but I want to see some reviews. I know, I'm a review whore, or something...but I know you're liking this, and if you've already read to where I am now...then go ahead and re read...lol...well have fun, I love you all and all the kind reviews you've given so far! Grazie!

Chapter 11

"Miranda, these came for you this morning." Emily's unsure, accented voice filled Miranda's office.

Miranda glanced up from the newspaper she was reading to find Emily caring a huge bouquet of brilliantly colored flowers, which covered her face so that it appeared as if it were walking into her office of its own accord.

"Who are those from?" Miranda, uncaringly, inquired, though deep down she wondered if this might be Andrea's way of saying it was 'okay'. However she was very, very wrong.

"Umm…Clinton Russell?" Emily frowned as she tried to read the card through all the flowers.

"Throw them away." Miranda disgustedly ordered, her stomach churning at the mention of his name.

Emily frowned through the flowers, about to protest, but then thought better of it and left, tossing the flowers into her waste basket.

~*~

"Miranda, do you want me to throw these away?" Emily waved the flowers at Miranda's doorway; they were slightly larger than the ones from the day before.

"Are they from _him_ again?" Miranda distastefully asked.

Emily nodded.

"Yes, throw them away. Do you even have to ask? Are you entirely that incompetent?"

Emily didn't respond, just rushed away, tossing the second bouquet of flowers away in the trashcan.

Miranda knew what she was thinking. She knew what they all were thinking. Miranda was fucking this gorgeous man and they were all jealous.

But their line of thought could not have been further from the truth.

Emily almost looked shocked and surprised when she announced, during a list of Miranda's daily tasks, that lunch had been booked and arranged for her with Clinton, and Miranda had immediately told her to cancel.

"But he's already…"

"Did you not hear me the first time? Because I thought I was being very clear."

Emily didn't protest, just walked away and made the phone call to cancel.

~*~

It was that afternoon that Miranda narrowly missed confrontation with Clinton. He had actually had the nerve to show up at _Runway_ and had demanded to see Miranda. Emily, completely panicked, had raced into Miranda's office, alerting her that he was there.

"Well make him go away." Miranda blandly flicked her hand in a shooing manner, as if it would make the problem just disappear.

"But he won't leave until he sees you."

"Then I guess he's going to be here for awhile." Miranda shrugged. "Oh, and Emily. Don't you dare let him walk past those lobby doors."

Emily sighed and turned. Some days she hated her job.

~*~

By eleven that night Miranda had to pull herself away from her work. She had been scared to leave Elias-Clarke that evening because she was afraid Clinton might come and whisk her away on another paparazzi filled evening. She did not want that. Instead, she wanted Andrea to find her outside, boldly step into her car with her and kiss her senseless with those sweet, soft lips she'd shared with her the weekend before.

But she knew it would not happen. Those thoughts needed to be pushed out of her mind. Andrea was pissed off at her and she had every right to be.

And so Miranda had thrown herself into her work, ignoring her daughter's pleas to watch a movie with them. She simply had too much to do. Work was the only thing that distracted Miranda from thoughts of Andrea.

~*~

Andrea lay awake in her bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

She couldn't sleep, hadn't been able to since Wednesday. Miranda's unusually desperate voice kept ringing in her ears and she couldn't get the sad, broken look Miranda had given her during their Tuesday night dinner out of her head. She missed the older woman with a deep, unwavering passion that nearly pushed her to pick up the phone and call the woman.

But it was nearly midnight and she knew the editor would be in bed. Or else out fucking someone. Andrea snorted and rolled away from the nightstand where her phone sat.

Every night she'd contemplated calling Miranda and every night the thought of her fucking some guy made her stop.

She supposed she shouldn't care so much. It wasn't as if they were in a relationship. It wasn't as if they were married and Miranda had cheated on her. They had merely kissed. That was all. Perhaps Miranda hadn't realized what she'd wanted; perhaps she'd slept with the man to prove Andrea wasn't what she wanted. But that seemed so childish, even for Miranda.

But what if Miranda really didn't care for Andrea. After all, she'd only called that one day.

But then again she could be giving Andrea space.

So many ideas, scenarios played out in Andrea's head and the only thing she could think to do was ask the woman herself.

And before she realized what she had done, Miranda's voice was sleepily saying, "Hello?"

Oh crap. What to do, what to do…

"Miranda?"

"Andrea?" Miranda sounded so relieved.

"Miranda. I couldn't…I can't sleep."

Miranda made no response. Andrea could hear what sounded like blankets moving, Miranda was shifting, perhaps sitting up.

Andrea knew that Miranda wasn't going to respond, so she went on, "I've missed you," she exhaled, hearing a similar sigh of relief coming from the other end.

"Andrea you can't keep doing this to me…you can't keep…leaving." Miranda was clearly tired. She'd never make such a confession in the day, when she was in her right mind.

"I can't keep…Miranda." the girl was surprised, surprised by the honest confession, but a touch baffled at how it placed the blame on her, when really she'd meant to place the blame on Miranda. "Why did you do it?" There. She had turned the tables.

"Andrea, I can't explain my actions to you when I don't even entirely understand them myself."

But Andrea remained silent, waiting for an honest answer.

"I was weak, perhaps a bit unsure of my feelings."

"Do you have feelings for him?"

Miranda scoffed, "of course not."

"So you knew you were wrong afterwards."

"Yes," was Miranda's easy response.

"Well…"

"I'm going to bed, Miranda."

"All right." Miranda knew not to ask when they could see each other again. Trust would take time to be rebuilt between them.

But Andrea surprised her, "dinner tomorrow night?" So much for waiting a week.

"Yes."

"All right. You decide." And with that Andrea hung up, knowing if she stayed on the phone any longer she'd be begging Miranda to come over right that instant; but she still wanted Miranda to suffer. So she'd ended the conversation before it could continue.

Rolling over in her bed, she got her first decent night's worth of sleep since the whole little…relationship had begun.

~*~  
Miranda shifted restlessly in her bed. Andrea wanted to see her again. She hadn't entirely cut her off. She had called, they had talked. Hearing her voice had excited her beyond her wildest imagination and it was then that Miranda knew this wasn't merely an infatuation, a passing lesbian moment. This was real.

And it scared her.

~*~  
The night was dark, the trees beginning to turn apple-red and burnt orange due to the impending winter. The streets were less crowded, the cold slowly beginning to settle into the city. The street on which Miranda had chosen a restaurant to meet at was exceptionally barren. It seemed way out of the way and a place that Miranda would never, normally dine at. Andrea had arrived a little early, wanting to be the first to arrive. She strolled into the chic, urban restaurant, wondering if she'd been given the wrong address.

The inside was filled with young, gorgeous people. It was dim, dark. It had a Mediterranean feel to it and similar sounding music to match filled the conversation heavy air. But just as Andrea was beginning to doubt that Miranda had meant for them to meet at this restaurant, the silver-haired icon swooped in; and, had Andrea been standing up, she would have fallen over.

Miranda had her eyes concealed behind huge, designer glasses, which she didn't remove until she was safely seated right beside Andrea in their hidden corner booth. It was too much to ask of the younger woman to kiss her hello, and so she accepted the welcome, though timid, smile Andrea gave her.

"How are you?" Andrea inquired, feeling as if Miranda stood out like a sore thumb in the hip, young crowd. She was nearly a diamond in the ruff.

Miranda just shrugged and picked up her menu, pretending to occupy herself with trying to decide what to order.

"Why did you pick this place?" Andrea asked, hating what she was feeling sitting so close to this woman. She wanted to hate her, but instead she couldn't help but notice Miranda's strong musky, floral perfume, and the way the woman was so eloquently poised beside her, their legs inches from touching. Andrea wanted to reach out and touch her, but at the same time she wanted to chastise her.

"It's out of the way. I don't think I need any more press for quite some time." Miranda simply stated in her demure, seemingly uncaring way and Andrea wanted to smack her.

Yet at the same time, if she reached out an inch more, their hands would be touching. The mere thought sent shivers down her spine. She couldn't quite read what Miranda was feeling, but she very subtly noticed a blush creep across the older woman's cheeks when her leg accidentally collided with Miranda's.

"That's true." Andrea nearly stuttered, reaching for her glass of water, feeling suddenly very flustered and unsure. Miranda did this to her; she always managed to make her nervous, make her sweat.

She wondered if there would ever come a time when they could be completely comfortable together…

"Have you decided what you're going to order?" Miranda's sharp eyes were now fixated on the younger woman, and Andrea nearly jumped.

"No, not yet." She quickly looked away from the older woman and down at her menu.

But Miranda had other plans. She grabbed the menu away and flagged down a waiter. "I'll order for the both of us then." And she did. Whatever it was she ordered, it sounded delectable. Miranda, in her way, was taking care of her. It seemed a rather sweet gesture. Even more sweet when, after the waiter left, Miranda turned to Andrea and let a small smile grace her face. "I didn't think I'd ever hear from you again. I was worried."

Andrea was quite surprised by the remark, her stomach flipped at the thought of Miranda being worried because of her. "Well…I'm…I just needed to think about it." Andrea knew she'd have to play it calm and cool or else Miranda would get under her skin and ruin any chance of extracting a real, formal apology from her.

"Understandable." Miranda nodded. She was acting so unruffled, so certain that Andrea would forgive her.

And that almost made Andrea want to not forgive and forget. But the closeness of their bodies was just too much.

Andrea reached out and lightly allowed her finger to stroke the back of Miranda's hand. Miranda stared down at their touching bodies, as if she couldn't quite figure out what was happening. Andrea grinned at the thought of Miranda being moved by her slight touch. She let her hand fall to her side, ending their contact.

"Do you come here often?" she asked, realizing that Miranda had been quick to order. And why else would she have known about this place?

Miranda chuckled, "Oh, I've come here before."

"With your secret, mystery lovers?" It was a low blow, but Andrea felt she was allowed at least one.

But Miranda's grin didn't fade, "no, actually when I started dating Stephen we'd come here." Andrea raised an eyebrow and nodded, "no one ever seemed to recognize me here; Stephen liked that." Andrea nodded again, "and the food isn't too bad."

Andrea laughed, surprised by Miranda's subtle charm. It was easy to see why all of her past husbands had fallen for her. She was quite charming. "Do you miss him?"

"Who?" Miranda frowned, pulling her eyes away from the water glass she was twirling around in her hands.

"Stephen?" Andrea didn't know why she was asking, but the way she'd just spoken of him made Andrea, almost jealously, wonder if there were still feelings.

"Oh," she paused to form her words, shape them so they came out correctly. "In some ways I miss him, I suppose…but it's more the thought of him that I miss. I mean the word husband…it sounds so secure."

Andrea realized that Miranda didn't feel balanced. She was almost one of those people that needed someone. Andrea would never have pinned her as that kind of woman. It was an interesting revelation. She nodded and they remained silent as the waiter placed food in front of them. It looked delicious. They began to eat in silence until Andrea accidentally let some sauce drip down her chin, a chunk of chicken landing on the table, alerting Miranda to her messy eating. She felt her heart speed up, embarrassed by her clumsiness.

But she was once again surprised when Miranda laughed and pulled her napkin from her lap, wiping delicately at Andrea's chin. Andrea stared, in wonder and awe, as the woman tended to her. She couldn't believe her ex-boss was cleaning her face. And once Miranda was done wiping away the sauce, her eyes met Andrea's and the corners of her crystal blues moved upwards, her lips curling into a smile. Andrea's heart skipped a beat and she couldn't help but grin like a mad person.

Miranda shook her head and leaned forward, her lips gently brushing against Andrea's. Andrea quickly relaxed into the kiss, grinning like crazy as they kissed, their food forgotten for the moment.

"Should we be…" their lips parted only slightly through Andrea's dialogue, "doing this?...here?"

Miranda ran her tongue across Andrea's lips before responding, "no."

Andrea gasped, realizing that even though Miranda knew it was wrong for them to be kissing out in the open, she was still going to do it. And she deepened the kiss, her tongue finding its way tenderly between Andrea's slightly parted lips. Andrea let out a very quiet moan; she could feel Miranda smiling against her lips.

"Did you…think…about me?" Andrea whispered through light kisses.

"When?" Andrea's stomach churned at Miranda's breathy voice.

"When you…." Andrea laughed, "with him."

"Oh," Miranda let her lips press tightly against Andrea's, "yes."

"Yes?" Andrea broke the kiss for a second and raised an eyebrow.

"Yes." Miranda closed the distance, hungry for her lips. So much for censoring herself in public, but then again they were in a back corner, the lights were dim, no one seemed to be watching…

"Yes." Miranda's lips pressed gently against the side of Andrea's lips, "I don't…" the other side, "usually," lips square on Andrea's, "do things," another kiss, "like that." Andrea nodded, allowing her hand to gently cup Miranda's cheek, mindlessly shielding them from the rest of the world. Their kiss deepened for a moment before Miranda kissed gently up to Andrea's ear and whispered, "I'm sorry."

And Andrea melted.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

They had taken to phone calls when schedules didn't lend them time to see one another. After their dinner it was as if Miranda's schedule was suddenly completely full. She was constantly working; and when she wasn't working, she was at home working, or tending to her daughters needs.

Phone calls to Andrea were sporadically worked in to her day. And as soon as she heard Andrea's voice, all the stress of the day just flowed right out and a feeling of calm settled in its place. It was like Andrea was keeping her sane.

Today in particular, Miranda felt like pulling out all of her hair and firing everyone. The poor level of work that day had left her frustrated and irritable. Everyone was on edge, expecting her to calmly snap at them at any moment for any little fault. She needed to get out, to go away. She told Emily she was going to a meeting, grabbed her coat from her incompetent new second assistant, and then feigned leaving. But instead, she found her way to the roof-top.

The roof of Elias-Clarke had become her new get-away. She moved to her private corner, lit up a cigarette, and watched as both the smoke and her breath came out of her mouth on an exhale. She dialed the all so familiar numbers and felt a sudden sense of relief and release wash over her upon hearing a simple, "hello," from a certain, younger brunette.

"Good afternoon, Andrea." Miranda took another long inhale.

"Smoking?"

"Long day." Miranda sighed.

"I'm glad I'm not there." Andrea bristled. Miranda could hear her typing something on the other end of the phone, she was working.

"Yes, well…"

"Well…how are the girls?" Andrea knew to take Miranda's mind off of her job.

"They're good, I suppose. I haven't been able to see much of them." Miranda guiltily admitted.

"Miranda, you really need to do something with them. Just watch a movie tonight, relax with them."

Miranda snorted. The mere mention of the word _relax_ was laughable. Miranda never relaxed.

"I'm serious, sweetie." Andrea stopped her incessant typing.

"I have a dinner tonight, but maybe afterwards. Unless it's too late." Miranda shrugged, surprised at how maternal Andrea made her feel. Stephen would insist they needed to go eat out, and Henry would want her all to himself the moment she stepped in the front door. But Andrea actually wanted her to tend to her children over her. "I wish," Miranda briefly inhaled on her cigarette, "I could see you tonight."

"I do, too, Miranda." Andrea sighed.

"What is it that you're doing this evening?" Miranda frowned.

"I have to interview this man from the Green Party." Andrea breezily reminded Miranda. They had already discussed their week, that Sunday, and they realized that there weren't any open nights for them to get together.

"Right." Miranda felt like she couldn't go on like this. "I need to see you."

"Miranda, sweetie, we can't…this week."

"I know."

"It really sucks." Andrea groaned.

Miranda laughed, butting her cigarette. "Well I have to get back to work."

"All right, talk to you later."

"Call me after your thing tonight."

"What if it's late?"

"I'll be up."

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye."

~*~  
It was nearly midnight by the time Andrea arrived at her apartment. She tossed her messenger bag down and then flipped on a light. After sorting through her mail, she remembered that Miranda had wanted her to call her. Though, she wasn't sure why. She could imagine that the woman might be asleep, or working, and most likely didn't want to be disturbed. But, her insistence during their conversation earlier that day propelled Andrea to dial her number.

On the second ring Miranda picked up.

"How was it?"

"The interview?" Andrea was quite surprised by Miranda's quick question.

"No, your trip to the zoo. Yes, the interview." Miranda snapped, sounding a bit like she had just woken from sleep.

"Miranda, is this a bad time?"

"No," she quickly responded, "I just fell asleep for a moment, I'm fine. I thought you weren't going to call."

"Well it lasted longer than I thought it would." Andrea shrugged, pulling a water bottle out of the refrigerator and opening it.

"I see." Andrea wasn't sure how she felt about this new, almost over-bearing Miranda. This was such a change. The woman seemed almost…well…desperate. But Miranda Priestly was never desperate. She would never even allow such a thought to cross her mind. But the behavior was there.

"So, I should get to bed. It's late. I have an early meeting in the morning."

"As do I. Irv has something very interesting coming his way." Andrea could hear the smile creep its way across Miranda's lips.

"Sounds like you have a plan, Priestly." Andrea laughed.

"I do." Miranda was very serious. "Well, goodnight."

"Night."

~*~  
On the way to a run through later that week;

"Miranda, is your assistant in the car with you?" Andrea's voice teased the stolid looking woman on the other end of the phone.

Miranda merely strained her eyes to take in her new assistant Bridget…or Blake…or was it Beth? She couldn't quite remember. The girl looked like she was shaking beside her, and she suppressed the urge to laugh. "Yes." Miranda simply stated.

"So you don't want to talk dirty to me?" Andrea evilly laughed, knowing full well that Miranda would blush at such a remark and would have to turn away from her assistant further. Which she did.

"Yes, we're almost to the run through. I expect everything to go as planned…" Miranda's voice calmly answered Andrea, stressing the _planned_ part of the sentence, accenting it with a hint of a warning for Andrea to cut it out.

"So if I were there, would you kiss me like you did last week? Remember that kiss when you…"

"No, no, no." Miranda quickly ran her tongue across her suddenly very dry lips, abhorring this conversation. "We're almost there. I'll call you later."

"All right, I'll be thinking dirty thoughts about you until then."

~*~  
"Never, ever, do that again, Andrea." Miranda snapped.

"What? I was just having some fun with you." Andrea could hardly take Miranda's condescending tone seriously. The woman knew she wanted it, so why did she have to pretend like she didn't?

"I can't have my new assistant Brittany, or Belinda, or whatever the fuck her name is, thinking that I'm human." Miranda quickly realized what she had just said and let a small chuckle escape from between her lips.

"You're not human, Miranda." Andrea grinned.

"Shut up, Andrea."

"You know, you can call me Andy. Perhaps then people wouldn't question why you were talking to me, if you ever happen to talk to me on the phone in public. People might assume you have some secret boy toy named Andy."

"Andrea, you are not a boy toy."

"Ah, ah, ah. Just try it once for me. Just say Andy."

There was a slight pause where Miranda sharply inhaled and then exhaled.

"Andy."

"Very nice," Andy grinned.

"Well…it might take me awhile."

"I understand."

~*~  
"Andre…Andy?" Miranda was in between work and a banquet.

"Yes, Miranda." Andy smiled, rolling the noodles she had just made in the microwave around and around on her fork, cradling her phone against her ear.

"Would you mind…well would you like to have dinner at my house on Saturday?"

"This Saturday?"

"Yes, this Saturday. I thought you didn't…"

"No. I'm free." Andy laughed. She was always so surprised and amused by how scared Miranda sounded when she thought Andy might reject her. "I'll be there."

"All right, but the girls will be there too. Is that all right?"

"Of course." Andy had dealt with them before, she could handle them again. "We're not going to…I mean…we haven't even…and…"

"No, no. None of that. I just haven't seen them much, but I would really like to see you…"

"No, I completely understand, Miranda. My God, they're your daughter's after all." Andy grinned.

"Don't remind me." Miranda chuckled. "Oh God." She exhaled, "I've arrived."

"Well knock'em dead. Just think of me, eating these horrid microwave Thai noodles and watching scary crime shows on A&E."

And just when Andy thought she'd get a sarcastic come back, she was hit with an airy, longing remark. "That sounds nice."

"Not half as nice as the event you're about to go to, I suspect."

Miranda laughed. "I'll call you tomorrow."

"Or tonight…when you get home." Oh God, she sounded desperate.

"Oh…all right." Miranda agreed, much to Andy's surprise.

~*~

It was nearly two in the morning when Andy's phone began to ring. The vibrating of her phone stirred her from sleep, and she glanced down beneath her. She realized she'd fallen asleep on top of her cell phone waiting for Miranda to call.

"Hello?" her voice was sleepy.

"Oh. Did I wake you up?" Miranda sounded genuinely concerned.

"No, well kind of, but it's…"

"Well you told me to call so I…"

"Miranda, it's fine." Andy laughed.

"Well go back to sleep. I just wanted to say that the thing was long. I had to talk to thousands of people. I'd rather of been there with you."

"Aww…Miranda getting sentimental. I never thought I'd see the day."

"Yes, well don't go spreading it around."

Andy just laughed. "I won't."

"Goodnight, Andre…Andy."

"Goodnight, Miranda."

TBC...grazie pour le reviews. They were tres bien. More please :D lol


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Andy arrived at the all too familiar town house, feeling a hint of nausea at the thought of her previous arrivals at the same place. She realized then that she did not miss working for the woman, no, quite the contrary. She much preferred being on the other side of things; with the woman instead of against her.

Smoothing the front of her vintage black jacket, all the way down her cream colored skirt, she readied herself to see Miranda for the first time in what seemed like days. It had been a week since they'd last had dinner together, and the week had been long and tedious. Andy wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms tightly around the older editor and kiss her into submission, but she knew, as soon as the door opened and Caroline peaked her head out, that there would be no such thing that evening. As long as the girls were around, kisses were not plausible.

"Come in, Andrea." Caroline instructed, much like her mother might have a year ago.

"Thank you." Andy smiled and stepped inside, hit by a wonderful aroma that seemed to be coming from the kitchen.

"Mom's in the living room."

"Thanks." Andy ruffled her hair and stepped forward, surprised when Miranda's form appeared at the sitting area's door. It nearly took Andy's breath away to see the woman, looking eloquent as ever in a muted brown shirt and equally chic looking trousers. Her glasses were on, and she whisked them off, her eyes never leaving Andy's as she did so.

"Good evening, Andrea. I'm glad you could come." Andy was glad Miranda had spoken first, she could hardly formulate words. The impulse was to fly to her arms, and kiss her, but Caroline, and soon her sister Cassidy's, presence in the room held her back.

"Thank you for having me." Was all Andy could think of to say.

And without looking at either of her daughters, Miranda simply said, "girls, go wash up for dinner. I think it's almost ready."

And the girls, after glancing at one another, raced up the stairs and out of sight. Miranda adjusted her trousers over her hips and glanced away from Andy, up the stairs, checking to make sure her daughters were, indeed, out of sight. Running her tongue across her lips, she turned her attention back to Andy and smiled.

Andy could hardly find her feet, so she was glad when Miranda came towards her, locking their lips together for the briefest of greeting kisses. "I've been waiting all week for that." Miranda smugly grinned, and then turned, disappearing into the living room.

Andy realized she had intended for her to follow, and so she quickly caught up to the older woman, finding her mixing a drink at her mini-bar.

"Want anything?"

"Um, whatever you're having, I suppose." Andy shrugged, watching as vodka was poured and precisely mixed, then divided into glasses.

Miranda handed her the drink, sipping her own. Their hands brushed during the exchange and Miranda's eye-brow raised. "The girls think you're here to discuss articles."

Andy nodded, having wondered what Miranda's excuse would be.

"They, for some reason, remember you."

"We had several brief encounters." Andy nervously ran her hand through her hair, wishing the girls were gone so that she didn't have to censor herself from grabbing Miranda and kissing her, touching her…

"Mom, we're all ready." Caroline announced, suspiciously eyeing her mother's close proximity to her guest.

"And dinner's on the table." Cassidy added, also watching.

Andy felt completely awkward, like she was on display. But Miranda's warm hand, guiding her into the dining room made her feel like it was all right, like she wasn't out of place.

Dinner, at first, was quite awkward. Miranda couldn't seem to take her eyes off of Andy, and Andy profusely blushed, but then tried to hide it, because she didn't want the girls thinking anything about her relationship with their mother.

Caroline continually eyed them suspiciously, not really sure about what was happening.

They ate mostly in silence. Every now and then Miranda would cut through the quiet and inquire about her daughter's days. Cassidy proudly boosted that she'd gotten an A on her History exam and Caroline had kicked her under the table, resulting in discipline from Miranda, which was quite a chilling experience. Even Andy became afraid to cross her. But when neither of her daughters were looking, Miranda winked at Andy and she relaxed, almost laughing out loud at her momentary childlike fear of the woman.

After the main course of food, Caroline asked if she could be excused. She seemed quite displeased that there was a guest. She feigned homework, though Andy suspected she'd probably call her friends and chat, what with her mother occupied with Andy.

Shortly after, though not quite as rushed to leave, Cassidy excused herself from the table.

Miranda allowed her to go, and then began picking up the used dishes. Andy hadn't expected her to perform such a task, but there was Miranda, picking up plates and carrying them off to the kitchen. She decided she would do the same, make it go faster. But much to her relief, the woman merely placed the plates by the sink, not bothering to wash them and place them in the dishwasher. Instead, she grabbed Andy around the waist and kissed her, their lips gliding together, gently at first, then more frantically before Miranda pulled away.

There were the girls to consider, the girls who might barge in at any moment.

And Andy wasn't quite sure they liked that she was there.

"Oh, they're just annoyed because I haven't done anything alone with them for awhile." Miranda waved it off, moving to the living room area once more, filling up her drink.

"Well maybe I shouldn't have…"

"No, I wanted you here." Miranda quickly kissed her again before motioning for her to follow her.

Andy frowned, but then followed after, like a lost puppy dog. She suppressed the question that was on the tip of her tongue, and allowed herself to be led up two flights of stairs and in to what looked like an office. Miranda closed the door behind them.

Andy fell into a huge, plush, black-leather chair and watched as Miranda, once again adjusted her shirt, and then came towards her. "I noticed your writing has improved. Did that weekend in Chicago help you?"

"I'm not sure. I think I might have been too distracted to learn much." Andy laughed, suddenly feeling nervous as Miranda leaned slightly against her desk, sipping her drink. She raised an eyebrow at Andy's comment and laughed.

"That was not my intention."

"I know." Andy rubbed her hands together.

"You're nervous." Miranda noted, setting her drink down on the uncluttered, meticulously arranged desk.

"No I'm not." Andy quickly answered, though her hand shook when she released it from her other hand.

Miranda just smiled. "Why?" She came closer and reached out a hand for Andy. "There's no need to be nervous." She pulled Andy up and ran her hand gently over Andy's cheek, fingers trailing through her dark brown hair. Their lips collided and Miranda soothed all of Andy's worked up nerves. Her hands steadied and she allowed them to roam over Miranda's slender back.

Lips fought hungrily against each other; Miranda's hands roamed freely. She broke away from the kiss, her fingers finding their way to Andy's buttoned black jacket. Andy looked deep into Miranda's wondering eyes and smiled, leaning up to kiss her again, allowing the older woman to have access. Miranda's finger successfully unbuttoned Andy's jacket, and slightly slipped it off her shoulders before returning to her white button up. Before continuing, their lips connected and Andy watched, bemused, as Miranda coolly and confidentially slipped her warm hand into Andy's now opened shirt. Her fingers moved smoothly and swiftly across Andy's smooth skin, slipping between her bra and bare skin, fingers grazing against Andy's warm breasts. Andy moaned and allowed her lips to collide tenderly against Miranda's.

Through their movements, Andy found herself backed against a bookcase, oddly aroused by the uneven surface behind her. Miranda was pushing her against the bumpy books, the older woman's hands freely touching, trying to get as close to Andy as possible without going too far. Their lips fought, parting, reaching. They were breathing heavily; sucking, biting at one another.

Neither noticed when the door clicked open and a young red-head peeked inside.

"Mom!"

Miranda jumped and instantly separated herself from Andrea, hands going to her lips, rooming to smooth herself out. She stared at her daughter, eyes wide, challenging her daughter with an unspoken question: 'What?' Her back was turned to Andy who had turned away from Miranda' intruding daughter. Her cheeks flushed and her fingers fumbled as they tried to rebutton her shirt and adjust her jacket.

"What are you doing mom?"

"Why didn't you knock or something?" Miranda groaned, her voice not raising, just remaining as flat as always.

"Why are you making out with your ex-employee?" Her daughter's voice was accusing, mad.

"Um, I think I'd better…I mean…" Andrea didn't know what to do. She ran her hand through her ruffled hair and moved to leave, but Miranda stopped her.

"No, don't go. Stay." Miranda lifted her abandoned drink from its spot on her desk and sipped it, her eyes not leaving her completely enraged daughter.

"No mom, I want her to leave!" Caroline's voice was bigger, more severe than Miranda's.

"She is not going anywhere." Though Miranda's voice sent a chill down Andrea's spine.

"No, I'd really better go." Andy stepped away from Miranda, not really wanting to walk past Caroline, but she would have to in order to exit.

Miranda ran her hand through her hair, clearly frustrated. This time she allowed Andrea to leave.

As Andy walked down the stairs she heard Miranda snap. "Caroline, we need to talk."

Andy flew down the stairs, past a confused looking Cassidy, and out the door.

She had no idea what had just happened, but she suddenly felt not welcome in the Priestly household. And it was just then that she realized how complicated this whole relationship was going to be. She hadn't even considered Miranda's girls. The thought hadn't even crossed her mind.

"Fuck." Andy sighed, slamming her head against the cab's window. She was completely aroused and she had just been ousted by her new lover's daughter.

~*~

"What Caroline. What is the issue here?" Miranda was completely enraged. How could her daughter have done such a thing, and behaved in such a manner.

"Mom," Caroline groaned, "you were kissing that woman! That's disgusting."

"No it's not, Caroline. There's nothing wrong with kissing another woman."

"Yes there is mom! It's gross."

Miranda shifted her eyes, running out of justifications for her actions. She took another long sip of her drink and slammed the glass down on her desk. "It is not, Caroline. We are two adults and I do not have to justify my actions to you."

"Exactly mom, you never have to justify anything. I hate you!" Caroline screamed, attempting to flee the room, but Miranda would have none of it. Her heart broke when she heard those words being uttered by her own daughter. She could handle anyone else saying it, but not her. Not her baby.

Miranda stormed after her daughter, grabbing her arm, and crushing her with a hug.

"Get off of me!!" Caroline screamed. "Get away!"

Cassidy appeared around the corner and stared at her mother and her sister. She was quite perturbed.

"Caroline, I love you. I don't want to do anything to hurt you. I'm sorry that you're angry with me, but my life does not reflect on your life. If you think what I did was wrong then I sincerely apologize, but I won't change my actions to suit you."

"Let go." Caroline wiggled her way out of her mother's arms. And with that she turned and raced up the stairs, up to her bedroom.

Miranda turned, her eyes filling with tears. She hadn't expected this; she hadn't intended this to happen. She covered her face with her hand, and then she turned and found Cassidy staring worriedly in her direction.

"Mom?" Cassidy had never seen her mother like this before. It frightened her. "What's wrong?" Cassidy inquired, moving closer to her mother. She wanted to hug her, to tell her it was okay. Caroline was just going through a weird phase or something. But her mother looked so unapproachable.

But suddenly, through Miranda's strange tears, she let a small smile show through. Cassidy immediately wrapped her arms around her mother, allowing her to be hugged like her mother had hugged her years ago.

~*~

"What happened?" Cassidy inquired, sneaking her way into her sister's room, crawling onto her bed with her.

Caroline flipped the channel on the TV and sighed. "I caught mom kissing that woman that was here tonight."

"Andrea?"

Caroline nodded.

"Really?"

"Yeah, it was gross. She was like touching her and stuff. Disgusting." Caroline groaned.

"Well, you know she's dated a woman before." Cassidy shrugged, not as put off by this as her twin.

"What? How did you…"

"I found some old pictures of mom and this woman, when mom was younger." Cassidy finished her sister's sentence.

"Oh." Caroline simply stated, before turning back to the television. "It's still wrong."

"No it's not." Cassidy scoffed.

"Well it is when it's our mom."

Cassidy shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Well, whatever. I don't want to talk to her. She's horrible. Tonight _was_ supposed to be our night."

"I know, but clearly she wanted to see her."

"Eww…let's not talk about…"

"Okay." Cassidy nodded, turning to watch whatever it was that her sister was watching.

~*~  
Miranda felt completely horrible. She wiped away her tears along with her make-up, removing her clothes, dropping them on the floor of her walk-in closet. She would pick them up later. She grabbed her robe and then walked down the stairs, down to claim "the book" that she had heard Emily deliver earlier that night.

She brought it back upstairs, but before she could head back to her bedroom, she heard the TV on upstairs. All the way up in Caroline's room. She moved to take "the book" to her room, but then decided against it. Instead she began the descent up to Caroline's room. Perhaps she could talk to Caroline, convince her that she didn't, after all, hate her.

It was silly, really. She knew her daughter didn't really hate her, couldn't hate her. But it hurt her. It had shaken her to her core that her daughter could possibly hate her.

But when she arrived at her daughter's door and peered in, she found her beautiful twin daughters asleep together on Caroline's bed. The TV was on, blaring loudly at the both of them. Miranda moved to turn it off, and then moved to tuck her babies in. She kissed each of them lightly on the forehead and then moved to the doorway, regarding them from afar.

They looked so innocent, so young, beautiful. Miranda loved them very much, and she realized that these past few weeks she hadn't been showing them that. Hell, the past few years. She'd been so absent.

They were human, like her. They needed someone. And running them through husband after husband was not good for them. She knew it. They couldn't take another relationship, another separation. She didn't want to hurt them again.

And suddenly fear seized her. Andrea was another person. Another intrusion into her girls lives.

But Miranda wanted her so badly…it made her tingle all over just to think about the younger woman.

What was she supposed to do?

TBC...grazie pour le reviews! More porfavor!!!!!


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

The phone rang several times before Andy picked up on the other line.

Miranda was curled in her bed, unable to sleep. She hadn't been able to sleep after her fight with Caroline. It had been heart-wrenching, she felt horrible. Still.

"Miranda?" Andy sounded sleepy, but worried. Miranda suddenly felt a sense of relief the instant Andy spoke.

Miranda sighed, slipping her glasses off, rolling on to her back. "I didn't think she'd react like that."

"It's totally understandable, Miranda." Andy quickly soothed her worries.

"I don't know what to do." Miranda breathed out through her words, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger.

"Well we don't have to…"

"No, I want you." Miranda decisively cut in. "I just don't know how I'm going to get my girls to cooperate."

"Well it might take some time, Miranda. You can't just force all of this on them and expect them to go along with it." Andy wisely advised.

"I know that." Miranda snapped, not liking the wisdom that was coming from her younger counterpart.

"We'll make it work, sweetie. It'll be okay." Andy missed the biting tone in Miranda's voice.

Miranda sighed and rolled over on to her stomach. "I wish you were here still."

"Really?" Miranda could hear the grin spread across Andy's face.

"Yes." Miranda sighed again, rolling her eyes and smiling. "But, I don't think the girls are ready for a sleep over." She laughed.

"Oh, a sleep over. We haven't done that for awhile." Andy laughed.

"Yes, since Chicago…and that wasn't even a real sleepover."

"That was a nice night. I enjoyed that." Andy grinned, "god, I want to kiss you again."

"Don't. Not now." Miranda stopped her from going on, finally feeling like she could go to sleep. "I need to go to bed."

Andy nodded, forgetting that she was on the other end of the line and not next to her new found love interest.

"Tell me it's going to be all right." Miranda meekly stated, closing her eyes, leaning back into her pillows.

"It will be. We'll figure it out." Andy childishly stated, wanting more than anything for things to work between them. All these setbacks were getting tedious and she wasn't sure how much longer she could go on being with Miranda without being with her. That night they had spent kissing, which she had just been reminded of, was so beautiful. She wanted that night again and again and again. Mornings of waking up to the Dragon Lady, who wasn't a Dragon Lady at all, but a human being, a woman, a beautiful woman.

"Lunch tomorrow?"

"Yes, I would like that. We can continue this conversation then. How about that?" Andy grinned.

"All right." And with that the date was set, and as soon as Miranda hung up the phone she was able to relax enough to fall into a sleep-like state.

~*~

But the morning brought problems of its own. Loud music pounded its way into Miranda's room, and she was instantly awaken. Her alarm hadn't even gone off; it wasn't even quite six in the morning. She pulled herself out of her bed, wrapped her fluffy cream colored robe around herself, and opened her door, locating the source of the loud music.

Caroline's room.

Miranda made her way up the stairs to Caroline's half-opened bedroom door.

She peered in and was immediately surprised to find Caroline's clothing cluttering her bed, all of her traveling suitcases open and spread about. Miranda frowned, really hoping that it wasn't what it looked like. Stepping inside, maneuvering around the scattered clothing, Miranda moved to Caroline's iPod home, and stopped it. This immediately caused Caroline to appear from the abyss of clothing in her closet.

"What do you want?"

"What the hell are you doing?" Miranda rubbed her eyes, cleared her throat.

"Leaving."

Miranda just frowned. "Leaving?"

"Yes, I'm going to live with dad."

Miranda half-laughed, which elicited a sharp scowl from her daughter. "I already called him. He said I could come over tonight after school. I'm packing now."

"He agreed to this?" Miranda was livid.

Caroline nodded.

Miranda expelled a sharp breath. "Why, exactly, are you leaving?"

"Because, I don't want to be around you! You're disgusting." Caroline replied, moving back to her closet, weeding through it. Tossing out shirts she hadn't worn in years.

Miranda could not believe the level of dramatics this one little, simple kiss had created. She went to her daughter, stilling her motions. "You are not going anywhere. You will call your father and tell him that you will not be joining him tonight."

"I will be joining him. I will be going tonight. And you can't stop me. He's my father." Caroline protested, moving away from her mother's grasp.

"He doesn't really want you with him." Miranda quickly realized her mistake as soon as the words left her mouth.

"What?" Caroline cried, "he does want me. I'm his daughter."

Miranda had no more defenses. She couldn't tell her own daughter that her father didn't really care for her. She couldn't bring herself to do that. So she turned, unable to fathom what was happening, what she had said, what her own, uninhibited actions had caused, and left the room. She despised herself and her mood was not improved by the time she got to work.

Lunch with Andy needed to be canceled. Miranda couldn't handle that, not today. Talking, that's all Andy would want to do. She'd want to talk it through and fix it, and Miranda just didn't want to do that. Not today. Today Miranda needed to focus on doing her job. She couldn't think about anything else except that.

And so, to get the horrible conversation done with, Miranda picked up her phone and dialed the all too familiar number. Andy picked up on the third ring.

"Hey Miranda," she happily greeted.

"Good morning, Andrea."

And it was in the use of Andy's full name that immediately clued the younger brunette in to the fact that Miranda was canceling.

"No lunch."

"No, not today." Miranda felt relieved that she didn't have to say it.

"Can we talk about…"

"Later." Miranda quickly cut in, then noticed Nigel was heading straight towards her. "I'll call you later." And without listening for Andy's response, she hung up.

~*~

Fuck her. Fuck her and her canceling without a reason. Fuck her for not wanting to talk about it. Andy was very distraught, confused, upset. She wanted to go right over to Elias-Clarke and give the woman a piece of her mind. They were supposed to be doing this relationship thing together. She thought that Miranda was different.

But once again Miranda Priestly; professional editor and ruler of _Runway_, had appeared and her wrath had descended. Andy resented her.

Of course she couldn't be in an easy position, not after what she'd witnessed last night. Her daughter had been very angry. Extremely angry.

But Miranda should be grown up enough to be able to sit down with Andy and talk it through. And Andy knew that there was not a meeting that had been scheduled over the lunch, no Miranda had canceled because she had wanted to cancel. Because she couldn't face her and talk out what was bothering her. The fact that her daughter hated that she had been kissing Andy.

Andy could hardly blame her daughter. It wasn't like she'd even had time to get used to the fact that another female was occupying her mother's time. It wasn't fair, Andy could see why. But for Miranda to shut her out completely was not the best way to handle the situation.

She was pissed and she wanted to talk to little Ms. Priestly.

But she wouldn't call her, no. She wouldn't show up at her office and demand an explanation. No, Andy was grown up enough to know that Miranda would take her time. She would come around. She needed her space.

But she wouldn't be allowed this same space later on.

~*~  
"Miranda, I have John on the phone." Emily exclaimed, appearing in Miranda's office doorway. She looked quite nervous to announce this, but she clearly had been cajoled to put the call through.

"John?" Miranda frowned, her eyes moving from her assistant at the door to her phone that was flashing at her. She picked it up and answered, "John?"

"Miranda, I don't know what you've done this time, but I'm taking Caroline with me."

"I am aware." Miranda sighed, guilt flooding her stomach. But she wouldn't let it show.

"What are you doing to our daughters?" John sounded extremely angry for absolutely no reason at all.

"I am doing nothing but trying to raise them. Clearly they are ungrateful of my capable parenting." Miranda knew her argument was weak. In truth, she felt neither John nor she were truly capable parents.

John laughed on the other end. "I'll have her out before you even get home, I suspect."

Miranda turned away from the open doors of her office, staring out the windows into the city. For a moment she felt like she was about to let her emotions show through and she fought off the urge to allow a strangled sob to escape from between her lips.

"Miranda…?" John inquired, thinking that he'd perhaps lost the call.

"I'm here John." Miranda snapped.

"She's just being a teenager, you know. I'm sure whatever it is will pass." He semi-caringly tried to comfort her.

"Thank you, John, for that. I feel so relieved." Miranda had to work very hard to make her statement sound sarcastic and not sentimental.

"You haven't changed." John laughed again, only this time it was more relaxed.

"Neither have you. Goodbye John. Take care of my little girl." Miranda nearly choked on her sentence, but managed to get it to come out rather smoothly.

"Goodbye, Miranda." John hung up, and Miranda lingered for a moment before turning to hang up her phone only to find Irv standing in front of her. Page Six in hand.

TBC...thanks for the reviews guys! More por favor. And I should be updating this more regularly because this story is finished...so we have six more chapters to go. Stay with me!


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

The page was dripping with incriminating images of Irv with Susan Grant, a wealthy investor in the Elias-Clarke publications and building as a whole. They were caught making out at the back of a restaurant days before a huge company development, in which stocks had nearly doubled. It was reported that she had readjusted her share of the company, and then had sold out the following day, only to buy back in less than before. Not only her recent money gain had been reported, but several other investors had adjusted for the momentary raise in Elias-Clarke stock, thus alerting several officials to the fact that insider trader was occurring.

Miranda had known all about it, she'd always known. Irv was a shrewd business man and knew how to move investments around, but he'd been, recently, taking part in illegal adjusting. It had just gone under the radar until now. This allegation, these photos. This would result in some major investigation.

"Now there's a cop waiting to get in to see me, what the fuck were you thinking Miranda?" Irv cried. "After all the money I pulled for you, you ungrateful bitch. I had to do it! Primarily for you over anybody else because you have to make this little publication of yours unnecessarily over the top, when it's fine several million dollars back. This is as much your fault as it is mine." Irv tossed the paper down on her desk. "I'll see to it that you go down with me."

"Oh, I don't think that will be happening, Irv. I have nothing to do with the money you secure for my 'little publication'. And out of all the publications you run, _Runway_ is the most lucrative, so thanks to my ability to make the publication 'unnecessarily over the top' I am actually making you more money than you're shuffling around. You have no ground to stand on, Irv. And, I know more than I told…" her cold, blue eyes finally flashed to meet his angry, about-to-burst, bright red face.

Irv tossed the newspaper angrily in Miranda's direction, the edges fluttering against her cheek, causing her to jump. She watched as he turned and stormed out of her office, only to be met with an FBI official on the other side. Miranda tilted her head to the side, pursing her lips to ward off the smile that was threatening to come through, and observed Irv as he shook his arm out of the FBI agent's grasp.

Irv had crossed Miranda one too many times and she wasn't one to be crossed.

~*~  
A dinner followed a photo shoot and by the time Miranda returned home she was ready to collapse. She stepped inside the front door, grabbed 'The Book' that Emily had already brought, and moved towards the kitchen. However, a figure seated in a chair in the den caused her to stop dead in her tracks and take a step backwards.

She registered the red-head as her heartbeat returned back to normal. Her eyes leveled with the girl sitting in the chair, legs curled up to her chest. Her own blue eyes moved to meet Miranda's and she looked as if she'd just finished crying.

"Why are you still awake?" Miranda inquired, continuing on into the kitchen.

"I was waiting for you." Cassidy's little voice filled the den.

"Is she…"

"Gone. She left with dad at five." Cassidy sniffed, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.

Miranda didn't react. She pulled a bottle of wine out of her wine cooler, and turned to get a glass out of the cabinet. She uncorked the wine and filled her glass, taking a sip before turning to find Cassidy standing strangely near her. "What do you want?" Miranda demanded, not sure how to deal with her distressed daughter.

Cassidy took a step back, suddenly afraid of her mother. "I miss her."

"She just left." Miranda sipped her wine again, attempting to move to where 'The Book' was, but Cassidy didn't move. "How long have you been waiting for me?"

"Since she left." Cassidy whimpered, backing away from her mother.

Miranda observed her daughter. She looked pale and when she let her finger's trail across her cheek, she found she was cold. "Did you eat dinner?"

Cassidy shook her head no. "I was waiting for you."

"I already had dinner. Why didn't you have someone make you something, or find something to eat yourself?"

"I wanted to eat with you." Cassidy's tears returned.

Miranda sighed. "Sit down," she instructed, pointing towards the barstools.

Cassidy climbed in to one and watched as her mother pulled out a pan, followed by some bread and cheese. This was not something she often witnessed her mother doing. It was an exclusive comfort that only happened once or twice a year. When Miranda would cook for her daughters. Or daughter in this case.

"You know I don't care." Cassidy's voice was soft, teary sounding.

"Don't care about what?" Miranda asked, her blue eyes flashing up to look at her daughter.

"That you kissed Andrea." Cassidy shrugged, pushing her wild red hair out of her face, as if she were discussing her school work.

Miranda gave her a confused looking smile. "Yes, well too bad your sister can't share the same sentiment."

Cassidy shrugged. "Do you like Andrea?"

Miranda had never had such a conversation with either of her children. She'd never discussed any of her past three relationships with them, and now Cassidy wanted to talk relationships. "I do, very much."

"But she used to work for you."

"Well, yes, she did. But, I don't see why that matters. She doesn't work for me anymore."

"She's a lot younger than you."

"You make a lot of observations, Cassidy." Miranda quickly cut her daughter off before she could ask any more questions, pacifying her by placing the newly made grilled cheese sandwich on to a plate and setting it in front of her. Before her daughter could touch it, however, Miranda mindlessly cut it in half. Cassidy smiled.

"Thank you."

"Yes, well next time, don't wait up for me." Miranda scolded, but then noticed the smile fall from her daughter's face. "But, I should be home tomorrow night for dinner." Cassidy's smile half-heartedly returned.

~*~

Somehow the duo found their way, with Patricia at their heels, up to Miranda's bedroom. Cassidy shyly slipped under the covers of her mother's bed, not bothering to ask if she could or not. Though Miranda didn't really want to share her bed, and though she still had work to do that night, she didn't force Cassidy back to her own room, her own bed.

Miranda let her daughter sleep, or attempt to sleep, and moved to her bathroom to undress and wash up. Instead of going to her study to look over 'The Book', she slipped into the bed beside her daughter, almost relieved to have a body next to her. She'd missed that.

And as she flipped from page to page of 'The Book' making comments with sticky-notes on almost every page, she watched her daughter sleep. And once 'The Book' was studied from cover to cover, Miranda set it on her bedside table, checked to make sure her alarm was set, and then turned to pull the covers up and around Cassidy. She kissed her gently on the cheek and then turned to shut off the light. Turning back to her daughter, she watched as she peacefully slept. Her fingers brushed away Cassidy's tangled hair, and in that moment Miranda realized what had happened that day and finally let herself cry.

~*~

It was two in the morning when Miranda was pulled from her sleep by a sudden, restless, panic-like feeling. She realized, in her foggy, dreamlike state that she had not done something. What was it? She had forgotten. She hated forgetting to do things she was supposed to.

Attempting to roll over, Miranda found that her daughter had cuddled very, very close to her. She had to gently push her off in order to sit up, a sudden pang of nighttime nausea overtaking her as she did so.

Andrea. She had forgotten to call Andy back.

"Fuck," she muttered, pulling herself out of her warm bed, grabbing her phone off her nightstand, and moving towards the cold bathroom. She wrapped a robe around her, knowing she needed to call the girl. She had to, or else she wouldn't be able to sleep. And she wanted to talk. Now, at two in the morning, she wanted to talk.

But as the phone rang, she realized now might not be such a good time for Andy.

But to both her surprise and relief, the girl groggily answered on the fourth ring. "Miranda? Why the fuck are you calling at two in the morning? Did you just return from some party or something? Some big event that's more important than calling me and telling me what's wrong? You can't just avoid me, Miranda." Her words were languid, and hoarse.

Miranda didn't know what to say. She hadn't thought that the girl would be capable of forming a sentence at this early hour, much less sleepily tell her off. "Excuse me, Andrea Sachs, but I merely forgot to call you. That's why I'm calling you now." Miranda's words were seemingly less energetic than Andy's.

"Couldn't you call at a descent hour?"

"You didn't seem to mind last week…"

"But last week you didn't cancel on me."

"Andrea, listen to me." Miranda paused for a moment, challenging Andrea to talk. When she didn't, Miranda went on. "Caroline decided to go live with her father this morning and I didn't want to have to think about it, much less talk about it, so I couldn't handle going to lunch. All right? Don't expect me to just come running to you every time my world falls apart, I don't operate like that, Andrea."

"Well you might want to try it sometime. I want to know what's going on in your life. Your life means the world to me, Miranda. And if you're hurting because Caroline left because of me, because of us, then I need to know. You can't lock me out. I won't let you." Andy defiantly stated, her voice returning to her, her mind working again.

Miranda's hadn't quite caught up, but she was beginning to understand Andy's sudden sharp tone. She realized that what she had done in relationship world had not been wise. She also realized that this behavior that had become so normal to her- lock everyone out until the problem gets fixed- wasn't going to work with Andy. And Andy was young, she could easily find some other handsome young man…or woman, or whatever her little heart desired who didn't have as many hang ups as Miranda. But Miranda wasn't sure she had other options. And right now she wanted Andy more than she had ever wanted anyone, and she didn't want to lose her again over something as trivial as a canceled lunch date. And so she took a quick inhale in and then exhaled slowly as she spoke. "Andy, you mean the world to me and I don't want to lose you again." Miranda let her head fall against the bathroom wall, her eyes closing.

"I'm not going anywhere, Miranda." Andrea's voice was suddenly softer.

Miranda, relieved, sighed.

"You'd better go to bed."

Miranda nodded against the cold bathroom wall. "I know and you'd better get back to bed."

"You know, Caroline will come around. It's going to be okay."

"I hope so. I want her here with me."

"I know." Andy smiled, in awe at Miranda's very real love and adoration of her daughters.

"Goodnight, Andy."

"Goodnight, Miranda."

And with that Miranda shut her phone, pulled herself away from the wall, and back to her big, warm comfortable bed. After pushing Cassidy gently away, she snuggled into her side of the bed, Andy's words floating in her head, almost lulling her back to sleep….

_I'm not going anywhere, Miranda._


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Andy had decided to have lunch with the one person she knew she could count on. And it was time she broke the news of her new love conquest before it got splattered everywhere in the press. So, Andy found herself seated at an upscale, chic café across from her best friend, Lily.

"Where have you been hiding yourself, Andy? And you no longer have Miranda Priestly to blame, so you'd better have a really good excuse as to why we haven't had lunch in almost a month!"

Andy nearly choked on the water she had just sipped. She covered by laughing, but then realized that Miranda had quickly been brought up. What better time to spill the news. Though Andy was slightly nervous; she had no idea how Lily was going to react. "Well, actually…" Andy looked up, a huge, mischievous smile splashing across her face.

"What?" Lily frowned, not catching on.

"I kind of do have Miranda Priestly to blame." Andy laughed.

"Oh God, please tell me you are not working for her again." Lily cried.

"No, not working. More like…kissing?"

"Oh come on, Andy….wait what?" Lily clearly had heard something very different, and it took a moment for the word _kissing_ to register.

"Miranda and I…"

"No, no, no…you did not break up with Nate for Miranda. Please tell me you did not break up with him for _her_." Andy wasn't sure how to interpret her friends pleading tone.

"No, our relationship ended several months before I happened upon Miranda. She was at a restaurant and we ended up talking…and then she invited me to Chicago."

"Oh, that weekend you went away and didn't call me…"

"Yes, that weekend. And well one thing led to another and…" Andy studied Lily's face. She looked absolutely scandalized. Her mouth hung open in disbelief. "Trust me; I was just as surprised as you are now. But it's so right. And we're taking it really, really slow. I mean we haven't even…you know."

"Okay, eww…but wow. You haven't even…"

"Nope." Andy shook her head and sipped her water again.

"She's quite a…well…she's quite a catch Andy." Lily found herself oddly all right with the relationship.

"Really? You mean that?"

"Well, she'll keep you busy." Lily raised her eyebrows, still in slight disbelief at the new development.

"So you're really okay with this?" Andy sat forward, surprised by her friends support.

Lily uncomfortably sipped her water and then nodded, shrugged her shoulders, and replied, "sure."

~*~

The office was hectic. FBI agents stormed about, collecting folders, in and out of Miranda's office all morning. She had hated their presence, but she felt unthreatened. She went about her day, whispering out orders to her second assistant, Brooke. No, Brittany. And she was quite upset when her coffee was cold, her Perrier was low, and the prints weren't on her desk in time. Belinda was a useless assistant, Miranda decided.

Perhaps it was time for a firing.

But there wasn't time for one now. The day had drawn to a quick close. Miranda had cleared her schedule so she could be out of the office by five. After rattling off a list of things that still needed to get done to Emily, Miranda took her leave, enjoying the quiet time she was given alone on the elevator.

Roy met her on the street and she was whisked away, arriving home almost too quickly for her liking. She wasn't overly excited to be home; to be having dinner with her daughter. She would much rather have stayed at the office and completed the articles she was editing. But she had promised her daughter, and so she was going to be there for dinner.

What Miranda really wanted more than anything at that moment was to take off her Blahniks and smoke her way through a pack of cigarettes. But the instant she stepped inside, she found the kitchen occupied by their cook, Lucy, and several lights on upstairs. She knew that Cassidy would be working on her homework, perhaps up in her room. And though she had wanted to remain absent for a moment longer, to perhaps steal away to her room and smoke a cigarette, Cassidy appeared on the upper story landing, staring directly down at her mother.

She had been caught.

"Mom!" Cassidy exclaimed, racing down the stairs, into her mother's arms, embracing her with a crushing hug.

Miranda hadn't seen her daughter this excited about her arrival home in years.

"How are you, darling?" Miranda inquired, once she was out of her daughter's grasp and capable of breathing once again.

"I have a ton of algebra homework." Cassidy sighed.

"Then you'd better get to it," Miranda found that by sending her daughter off to finish homework, she could steal a moment to herself.

"I will, but Caroline called. She said she's having a lousy time with dad."

"Well, I tried to warn your sister that it would not be fun, but she wouldn't listen." Miranda sighed, taking the stairs with her daughter, up to the third story landing where Cassidy had all of her homework spread out on the blue and white collage of couches and rugs and tables. "What is it you're working on here that has cluttered my living room?" Miranda quipped, surveying the cluttered room.

"I told you, algebra." Cassidy sighed, brushing away the long locks of red that had fallen into her eyes.

Miranda glanced down at the worksheet that Cassidy picked up. As she slipped out of her heels, she let her well manicured finger come to rest on one of the unanswered questions. "The answer is 2." She mumbled, turning away from her daughter, heading towards her bedroom.

After Cassidy quickly worked the problem she glanced up at her mother's retreating form. "How did you…"

Miranda glanced back and smiled at her daughter, only to find the girl wasn't finished with her.

"Wait, mom." Cassidy suddenly looked nervous.

"Yes," Miranda turned; waiting impatiently for whatever it was her daughter was going to say.

"Can Andrea maybe…" Cassidy stopped, not sure if she should, or could go on.

"Yes." Miranda tapped her barefoot on the cool wooden floor beneath her, waiting for her daughter to go on. Interested to see why it was that she had even brought up Andrea.

"Could she…come for dinner? Tonight?" Cassidy fidgeted with the pen and worksheet she was holding, feeling very insecure in asking and frightened by whatever it was Miranda's response might be.

Miranda was completely taken aback by the request. She raised an eyebrow and adverted her eyes away from her daughter. She, of course, wanted Andrea to come. She was overcome with joy that her one, accepting daughter would be kind enough to allow for Andrea to come over and share the dinner that had been meant for just the two of them. When her eyes returned to Cassidy, who was quite still and who looked rather unnerved, she smiled. "Of course she can."

And just like that, Andrea began to work her way even further into Miranda's world.

~*~

Andy had been incredulous on the phone, unable to believe that it had been Cassidy who had requested her presence at dinner. But after Miranda assured her over and over again that it would not be like the last time Andy had come to dine, Andy agreed.

She arrived on Miranda's doorstep, dressed to the nine's in signature black and white Chanel, just as a burst of lightening fluttered off in the distance and thunder pounded. A storm was fast in approaching, it seemed. For just as Miranda opened the door, a gust of wind nearly uprooted Andy from the ground and carried her away.

Miranda pulled her inside as the first drops of water began lightly peppering the cement outside. Andy hated storms, but as she shook off the childish feeling of fear, she realized she was inches from Miranda, whose arms had not yet left her body, and whose lips were inches away. She suddenly felt very relaxed and warm, cozy. "Good evening, Miranda." Andy smiled, her fingers finding their way to Miranda's taut waist line, her lips gently pressing against Miranda's in a much needed kiss.

Miranda gasped when their lips first came together, and she felt her heart flutter inside her chest when Andy allowed her lips to move rapidly against her own. Andy's tongue slipped from between her own slightly parted lips, licking gently at Miranda's open lips.

It was at that very moment that a shocked gasp was heard, seemingly coming from the stairwell. Andy pulled away, suddenly remembering that she and Miranda were not alone. She looked over Miranda's shoulders and found Cassidy standing, completely still, at the foot of the staircase. Miranda smiled at Andy and turned to look at her daughter.

"Um…dinner's….uh…" Cassidy swallowed, "Hi, Andy."

"Hi, Cassidy. How are you?" Andy pulled herself away from Miranda, fluffed her hair.

Miranda merely grinned smugly at Andy.

"I'm good. I'm going to go…wash my hands." Cassidy made a quick exit and Andy rounded on Miranda.

"I completely forgot…we shouldn't be…" Andy quickly conjured up all sorts of reasons why they shouldn't have been kissing like that.

"Oh, she'll get used to it. Honestly, Andy." Miranda laughed. She grabbed Andy's hand and led her towards the dining room, where they had had a very unsuccessful meal several nights prior. Andy couldn't help but sense that something was off about the Priestly household. One daughter was missing, and it showed in Miranda's sad expression, however brief it might have been, when she sat down at the table to find only one daughter and her current lover around her.

The dinner was very nice, however; Cassidy sat, intrigued by Andy and her presence at the table the entire time. While the last dinner had been more strained, conversation forced and dry, this dinner Cassidy was much more willing to speak, to talk to Andy, ask her questions.

Miranda began to feel embarrassed by her daughter's avid questioning, and made it known when her daughter happened to ask, "So you like my mom?"

Andy nearly choked on the piece of chicken she was eating, and had to take a sip of her Chianti before she could answer. And even before she could answer, Miranda had already cut in.

"Cassidy, that is none of your business. Please do not ask such personal ..."

"No, Miranda, it's all right." Andy shrugged. She felt that Cassidy was grown up enough to understand, to know that it was all right. It was perfectly fine for Andy to like her mother…in fact it was perfectly fine that Andy might love her mother, and she wanted her, and Miranda to know that. But love was not the word that would come out of her mouth. Not yet. "Yes, Cassidy. I like your mom very much."

"Even after you worked for her? And she made you do all those horrible things? Like get us those unpublished Harry Potter…"

"Cassidy!" Miranda chimed in, her tone much more chilling this time. She didn't want to be reminded of all the horrible things she had done to Andy during her tenure at _Runway_. She didn't want to be reminded of the days when she couldn't have her, so she'd send her away to do mindless tasks, just to keep her occupied and away from her. "That is enough."

Cassidy quickly looked down at her plate, mixing the uneaten food around in circles.

"Stop that." Miranda added, pointing at the plate.

Cassidy let her fork drop, it clanged against her dish, and she sat back in her chair, angrily crossing her arms over her chest.

Andy raised her eyes and looked back down at her own food, quite perturbed by Miranda's harsh mothering.

After several moments of strange silence, however, Andy looked up at Cassidy and caught the girl's eyes. "I like her even after all of that." And with that she winked and Cassidy let a grin grace her angry features.

Cassidy quite liked Andy. More so than she had liked any of the men her mother had dragged home in the past.

~*~

Once dinner was over, Cassidy retreated to her room to finish homework. Miranda smiled at Andy, suddenly realizing that they were alone. A nervous feeling overcame her and as she picked up her plate to take it to the kitchen, her hand shook. She knew it was a mix of needing nicotine and an uneasy sexual energy floating in the air between them. Realizing that Andy was right behind her, bringing her own plate to the sink, Miranda turned. She hadn't calculated exactly how close Andy was and as she turned Andy ran right in to her. Miranda shook her head and grinned. She took Andy's plate from her and placed both her own and Andy's by the sink. Turning back around, she found that she was dangerously close to Andy.

And Andy looked nervous as well. She fidgeted with her jacket, unable to look Miranda right in the eyes. But she also couldn't move away from the strong force that kept her inches from Miranda. And before either could stop what was happening, they were kissing. Deep, rough kisses.

"Upstairs." Miranda immediately gasped as their lips parted for the third or fourth time.

Andy nodded, realizing what was about to happen.

Miranda led the way up the backstairs. Andy had never been this deep into her townhouse before, so she quickly took in her surroundings. The back stairs led up to the wooden floored hallway on the second floor. Another flight of back stairs went up two more flights. The walls were a muted white, and colorful, modern works of art lined the walls. The blue and white sitting room, which Andy had first seen on her unwelcomed trip up the stairs her first time delivering "The Book", set off to the left and a large wooden door set off to the right. It had several doors on either side of the hallway, but it was clear that this was Miranda's bedroom. The same bedroom she had shared with Stephen, and probably her previous husband and the husband before that and perhaps several lovers before and in between those relationships.

Andy took a deep breath and watched, sated in anticipation, as Miranda opened her bedroom and ushered her in, making sure to close and lock the door behind them. Andy took several steps inside and froze. She was immediately surprised at how extremely large the master suite was. The bed looked warm and inviting. It sat in a black frame and its cream colored sheets matched well with the muted yellow of the bedroom walls.

Andy was completely glued to the spot, mesmerized by the room. Miranda smiled to herself and ran her shaking hand through her hair. She looked from Andy's admiring stare to the pounding rain outside. "I need a cigarette." She announced, and Andy just nodded. Miranda moved towards a sleek, black dresser and opened the top drawer, extracting a pack of cigarettes and lighter.

Andy's attention moved from the room to Miranda, watching as she lit a cigarette. Miranda looked up, her neck straightening as she inhaled, her eyes leveling with Andy's. "Cigarette?"

"Yes." Andy nodded, accepting one and leaning towards Miranda for a light. "I haven't smoked since I worked for you."

Miranda turned her head, processing the statement, and then laughed. She went to her bed, sitting down on the soft, cream sheets. She patted the spot beside her and Andy sat. Miranda leaned back and reached for her make-shift ashtray off the top of her nightstand. She tapped the ashes off her cigarette and then placed the ashtray between them.

Before either thought about it, Andy leaned forward and kissed Miranda, remnants of her exhale seeping between Miranda's lips. "I want you." Andy timidly whispered through kisses.

Miranda nodded, breaking away to tap off more ashes. Andy did the same. A loud clap of thunder rumbled so close that is shook the house. Andy whimpered, inhaling deeply before extinguishing her cigarette. She grabbed the ashtray and placed it on the other nightstand, turning to Miranda, feeling as if she needed to be close to her. The storm outside worried her, but being close to Miranda pacified her fears.

Miranda nervously exhaled, realizing that she hadn't done this in a long, long time.

Andy pressed her lips firmly against Miranda's, taking her cigarette from her. She inhaled and then pressed her lips once again to Miranda's, their tongues somehow colliding as Miranda inhaled and Andy slowly exhaled. Andy broke away for a moment, inhaling once again. Miranda took the cigarette back and inhaled, her hands beginning to steady.

Andy watched her, watched as uneasiness began to subside. She reached forward and ran her fingers through Miranda's hairspray heavy hair. The silver locks were stiff beneath Andy's fingers. "Are you alright?" Andy inquired, pressing her lips against Miranda's.

Miranda nodded, "I'm fine." Though she wasn't entirely fine. She was nervous, apprehensive about what was invariably about to happen.

"Hey, it's okay." Andy assured her, suddenly reading the worry in Miranda's smoky, blue eyes.

Miranda nodded, reached over Andy to put out her cigarette. Andy wrapped her arms around Miranda, kissing her gently across her neck to her lips. "I love you." Andy whispered as their lips parted.

"I love you, too." Miranda exhaled, surprised at how easily the words had left her mouth, and how, for the first time, they had felt completely right to say.

Andrea's smile was wide and beautiful as she reached down to let her fingers grab the bottom of Miranda's shirt, pulling it up until it was off of the beautiful older woman. She sat before Andy with only her bra on and she didn't think it was fair. But Andy's eyes on her bare skin made her feel self-conscious yet wonderful at the same time. Andy's fingers traced down from Miranda's flushed cheeks to the soft flesh above and below Miranda's bra. As her fingers moved further down, Miranda bit her lip to keep herself from whimpering.

But Andy knew what Miranda was masking, and so she grinned, pushing her back onto the bed. She had never done this before, not with a woman. She had absolutely no idea what to do, but she had masturbated enough times to have an inkling of what should be done. However, she wanted it to be perfect. After all, she was about to make love to Miranda Priestly.

Andy climbed on top of her new lover, finding that the woman was practically squirming below her. Miranda had her eyes closed, attempting to calm her frayed nerves. Andy leaned forward and kissed both of her closed eyelids, causing the woman to open her eyes, the piercing blue catching Andy, causing her to groan. They needed little more coaxing before Andy was taking her own shirt off. Miranda's hands freely roamed upwards, touching Andy's newly exposed, bare skin. Andy leaned forward, their hips unknowingly moving together, Andy's lips kissing Miranda. "I've never done this." Andy's words were a whisper that fell perfectly against Miranda's ear as their still clothed lower-halves automatically rode against one another.

Miranda's cheeks flushed a deeper pink, if it were possible for her to blush deeper, and she looked away before meeting Andy's eyes. "Well you're doing just fine." Her voice was breathless. "But…" Miranda let out a moan as their bodies continued to move in conjuncture, "more…"

Andy nodded, though she wasn't exactly sure what more entailed. Miranda readjusted herself, arching her body into Andy's, her hands going to her own trouser's buttons, undoing them. Andy got the idea and allowed their hips to part. Miranda cried out, not liking the lack of physical contact. "Hang on…" Andy muttered, fumbling as she pulled Miranda's pants down. Once they were off, Andy tried to, as fast as she could, get out of her own pants. It was quite an ordeal and Miranda took a large, frustrated inhale, exhaling sharply.

Once Andy was naked, except for her bra and underwear, she returned to Miranda, reconnecting their hips together. She moved up and down, the feeling of their almost naked bodies together oddly very natural. Miranda's skin was so soft, she noted as she allowed her fingers to move upwards, around her back to unclasp Miranda's bra, helping her to remove it.

And once it was thrown to the side, Andy undid her own. Miranda's hands immediately moved to cup Andy's small, taut breasts. And soon Miranda was pulling her forward, her tongue gliding over Andy's exposed skin, biting at the crock of her neck. "Fingers," she panted against Andy's ear.

Right, fingers…she could use her fingers. With a shaky hand, Andy trailed her fingers down Miranda's side, making the woman squirm further. She could feel the warmth being admitted from between Miranda's thighs long before her fingers began pushing down Miranda's silky underwear. It was nearly soaked, and Andy was amazed by Miranda's scent. She hadn't expected something so different from her own. Once Miranda's underwear was pushed down far enough to expose her hairless middle, Andy looked up at the woman.

Miranda nodded and Andy went for it. It was so easy, so natural. Their naked bodies still moved as Andy let her fingers slip deep into Miranda's wetness, causing the woman to arch into her, crying out, biting furiously at Andy's exposed skin as she tried not to call out too loudly.

Andy's fingers worked their way in and out, allowing her thumb to work over what she could only guess was Miranda's throbbing clit. Miranda moaned, shaking beneath her and Andy suddenly realized that Miranda was about to come.

And not only was Miranda about to orgasm, but Andy was very, very close to making it over her edge as well. "Hang on, Miranda…hold on…."

Miranda squirmed and panted, trying her hardest to resist coming against Andy's fingers. Her eyes looked up, locking with Andy's mocha colored eyes. Miranda was completely gone, lost to Andy and her sensual body. And it was then, as they tried their hardest to look at one another while still moving furiously together, that Miranda climaxed, followed closing by Andy, who hadn't even realized she could make herself come just by witnessing Miranda orgasming.

"Oh fuck!" Andy nearly screamed out as she allowed her release to overcome her.

Miranda was coming down from her own orgasm, still riding out Andy's fingers. And it took several moments for the sweaty, sticky, warm duo to calm down. Andy took deep breaths; she had never taken part in anything quite like this before in her life. And as she pulled her fingers tenderly out of her new lover's core, she felt the slick wetness linger on her fingers. She looked at it, spreading her fingers, observing the white, gooey substance. Miranda, also trying to regain her breath, observed Andy's reaction to their lovemaking.

Andy could hardly comprehend what had just occurred, and while she was sure that it was not the best sex that had ever happened, she knew, as soon as she looked into Miranda's eyes, that it had been perfect. Perfect for that moment, for their first time, for their new beginning as romantic partners. Andy quickly kissed Miranda, her messy hand forgotten, the kiss deepened.

"I love you." Miranda whispered, as Andy kissed her neck eagerly.

"I love you." Andy grinned against Miranda's snow white skin. "God, you're gorgeous." Andy exclaimed, allowing herself to sit up, still straddling Miranda. Miranda rolled her eyes and tilted her head to examine Andy.

Andy's hands could hardly keep from roaming all over Miranda, over her perfectly pert breasts, her soft, smooth skin, through her hair. Their kisses were languid, soft. She loved this. She loved this even more than just kissing Miranda.

To be naked with Miranda was wonderful, Andy decided. It was decidedly sinful, yet perfect and wonderfully, yet surprisingly, natural. This felt wonderful and this was what Andy wanted to do for the rest of her life.

Andy never wanted to stop making love to Miranda. Ever.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Miranda's worries and fears were shortly pacified. After that fantastic beginning to an entirely new dimension in their relationship, she was feeling particularly great and no longer nervous. She had allowed Andy to begin, to start the evening because she was afraid she had lost her capacity for lesbian lovemaking. It had been all too long since she'd last shared a bed with another woman, but upon climaxing from Andy's well intentioned, yet not quite sharpened, lovemaking, Miranda had regained her confidence in the bed.

"You've really never done this before?" Miranda's voice was inquisitive; as she spoke she took Andy's hand, beginning to suck slowly on each finger.

Andy let a slight gasp escape from between her lips before she shook her head. "No, never." Andy shrugged.

"Well you're not half bad," Miranda gave her a sweet smile, leaning in to kiss her.

"Half bad…how would you…" Andy gasped between shallow breaths as Miranda's lips and mouth continued its assault on her fingers.

"Oh, don't think I've never done this before, Andrea." Miranda's voice was teasing, her mouth lingering on Andy's last digit before sat up. "Sit on the edge of the bed."

Andrea frowned at her, wondering what was about to happen, but knowing that what Miranda had just been doing was getting her dangerously close to needing very, very physical contact. She did as Miranda said, and let out a low moan when she felt Miranda wrap her legs around her from behind, her breasts pressed firmly against her back, and her core warm against Andy's lower back. Miranda's lips connected with Andy's shoulder, kissing her, teasing her, tickling her. She let her hand, which had come to rest on Andy's left shoulder, move slowly down her arm, tickling the tender, soft skin beneath her fingers. Andy groaned, frustrated because she could only lean back, back against Miranda's warmth and wetness. Miranda's fingers moved slowly, took their time to trail back up her arm. When her fingers met with Andy's shoulder, she allowed her hand to move downwards, down Andy's chest. When her hand met Andy's breast, she cupped it gently, continuing her sucking on Andy's shoulder as she lightly pinched the nipple. Andy called out, feeling all sorts of strange, new, and interesting feelings rushing through her bloodstream, swirling on her suddenly very attentive skin.

Her core ached, and she wanted Miranda there more than any other place. She tried to, with her hand, push Miranda down further but she felt the older woman's gray hair move against her head, shaking her head. "No." Miranda's voice was low, husky.

Andy let out a frustrated sigh and waiting in anticipation as Miranda's hand traveled down further, down past her bellybutton, down the rest of her torso and towards the spot that Andy wanted her to touch so badly she was felt as if she might die if Miranda didn't. But luckily Miranda's fingers moved into Andy's hair covered warmth, immediately feeling her wetness. She let her manicured fingers move delicately towards Andy's clitoris. It was with slight stimulation of this very bundle of nerves that nearly sent Andy over her edge. But Miranda's fingers skillfully entered her, seeming to know exactly what to do.

Andy, feeling as if she looked very awkward, poised on the edge of the bed, her face probably twisted in some kind of mix of pain and ecstasy, had never felt better during sex in her life. And, feeling the need for a release, no longer able to hold on, she found her hand covering Miranda's, pushing her hand deeper, harder against her. She used this leverage to help get herself off and she realized, as she came over her edge nearly screaming, wetness exiting her, getting on her fingers as she pulled them away from Miranda's hand, that this was the best orgasm she'd ever had. Nothing Nate had ever done had been this attentive, or had made her body respond in the way it was for Miranda.

"Oh my God." Andy called out; realizing Miranda had not once stopped sucking on her shoulder. There would be a hickey there come tomorrow morning. Miranda allowed Andy to lie back down in the bed, and suddenly with renewed energy, she straddled Andy, peppering quick kisses to her lips, her cheek, her neck. Miranda wasn't finished with her.

Andy felt her body quickly overcome her last orgasm, ready for something more…Miranda's lips. Yes, Miranda was kissing her, kissing her everywhere. Miranda's lips were tender, moving more languidly across Andy's chest, arm. She paid special attention to Andy's breasts when she finally reached them. Everything was slow, planned out, nice. Miranda was a very attentive lover. She allowed her left hand to cup Andy's right breast as she let her mouth encompass her left, teasing it with her tongue and fingers until it was taut and red. Andy arched her back, surprised at the amazing sensations that were crawling all over her body as Miranda touched her, licked her, kissed her.

But Andy was slightly confused when Miranda's lips moved away from her breasts. They began a slow, wet path down her torso, towards her warm, and by now, very wet center. Miranda glanced up at Andy and a smile graced her lips as her tongue licked the skin above Andy's patch of hair.

Andy frowned down at the woman. Was Miranda Priestly really about to go down on her?

Oh yes, yes she was. Miranda let her hands come to rest on Andy's thighs, spreading them apart. Andy cried out, her sensitive area not accustom to such a touch. Nate had never, ever done this. Miranda's fingernails dug deep down into Andy's skin, causing her to hiss through her clenched jaw, which instantly began to relax as Miranda's tongue went to work.

The sensation of Miranda's tongue against her clit, her core, was so overwhelming that Andy literally tossed and attempted to turn, but found that Miranda's hands were firmly keeping her in place. She called out in frustration, grabbing on to the bedspread, arching her back against Miranda, willing Miranda to let her come, to finish her because she needed it so badly. "Miranda!" Andy screamed, her hips, by now, bucking wildly at the new sensation.

But Miranda just continued her sweet torture to Andy's soaked middle. And Andy nearly died as she experienced the largest, heart shattering, body aching orgasm's she'd ever had in her life. "Fuck! Miranda!" Andy exclaimed, practically sitting up, the sheets grasped firmly in her white knuckles.

Miranda devilishly licked at Andy's wetness before propelling herself forward to kiss Andy fully and deeply on the lips. Andy could taste herself on Miranda's tongue and moaned softly against her lips. When they finally parted, both breathless and in need of a momentary break, Andy fell back against the bed, and Miranda gently fell beside her.

"Wow, I've never…just wow." Andy was speechless.

Miranda turned on to her side and gently stroked Andy's bare stomach. She let a small smile grace her lips and she leaned down to kiss Andy. "It's late."

Andy suddenly frowned. Was this Miranda's way of telling her it was time for her to leave? But they'd just…

"I need to go check on Cassidy and get 'The Book'" Miranda sighed, leaning down to kiss away the frown lines. "Don't worry," she kissed Andy's lips, "you're not going anywhere."

And Andy relaxed, realizing she was going to spend her second night wrapped up close to Miranda, the only woman, or person for that matter, that she ever wanted to sleep next to or wake up to ever again. "I don't want you to go." Andy's voice was hoarse, quiet.

"I'll be right back." Miranda shook her head. She allowed Andy to pull her in to a deep kiss, before she slipped out of the bed. Andy pouted as she watched her new lover pull on a robe, covering her perfect body. Miranda sprayed some of her infamous musty yet floral smelling perfume to mask the cigarette smell. And with a quick smile to Andrea, she exited the room, the aroma of sex and Miranda lingering behind her.

~*~

With book in hand, Miranda crept up to Cassidy's room. She expected that, even at this late hour, the girl would be awake. However, when she peered into the brightly lit room, complete with TV on and laptop almost slipping off the bed, she realized Cassidy was asleep. Miranda shook her head and entered the room, closing her daughter's laptop, setting it on her desk, and then moving to turn off the television. Its noise ceased and the room filled with silence.

Cassidy suddenly stirred, and Miranda stopped dead in her tracks, hoping that she hadn't woken her daughter. She watched as Cassidy flipped onto her side and then she settled back down, her even breathing returning. Miranda moved towards her daughter, admiring how beautiful she was and had become, and realized how much her girls meant to her. She hated that Caroline was gone, hated it more than anything. She wished the girl would come to her senses and return home, where she belonged.

But right now Miranda had, at least, one daughter on her side. So she would tend to her. Leaning down, she kissed her daughter's soft cheek, something she did when she hadn't seen her girls all day and arrived home from an event after they'd already gone to bed. Realizing the girl wasn't properly tucked in, as well, Miranda pulled her daughter's blue and red sheets up and over her cold body. With one more kiss, Miranda left the room, turning off the light as she did so.

~*~

Andy was going mad without Miranda next to her. She had tried to relax, but found it rather hard to do whilst in an unfamiliar bed and completely naked. To pass the time, Andy had begun to study the room. Two large windows, covered in delicate cream sheets that were see through from the angle that Andy was in, over-looked the entire glittering, shimmering, wet city. The rain was coming down in heavy sheets, the wind whipping slightly against the windowpane. Andy shivered, reaching down to pull up the blanket, finding that she was suddenly frightened, and cold.

Looking away from the window, Andy studied the large dresser, which, on the top, held pictures of Miranda's girls, and an unfamiliar couple. Hanging all around the room were old 1920s pictures of obscure women in high fashions of the day (which only served to make Andy laugh; of course Miranda would have pictures of women hanging around her room). They were all done in muted colors that perfectly matched the dark yellow of the walls. Everything looked very regal and in place, even the modern flat screen that hung opposite the bed fit in.

Andy looked next at the bedside tables. There were two, and she knew then that the room was meant for two people. At one point Stephen, and whoever had come before him, had laid in this very bed, and used one of those tables. Both were very clean, though several books rested on the left table. Clearly Miranda slept on the left. Andy thumbed through the books, realizing that Miranda was quite in to historical fiction. And it was then that Andy realized she hardly knew anything about the Miranda behind Miranda Priestly. And that vaguely bothered her, for she knew that after this night things would change.

Realizing that both bed side tables had drawers, Andy felt a sudden need to explore. She felt like a five year old again, getting in to things she shouldn't. But there they were, and here she was, and Miranda wasn't back yet, and she couldn't hear her out in the hallway, so she couldn't be close by. And as her heart began pounding faster, but her curiosity overtaking her reasoning and Miranda's right to some privacy, Andy opened the seemingly abandoned night stand. There was nothing but some old pictures of the girls, and some other odds and ends. Glancing towards the door, Andy rolled across the bed. When she realized Miranda still wasn't near, she reached down and opened the drawer.

Her eyes widened in both surprise and horror when she realized what was inside. "Miranda!" Her name escaped Andy's lips, completely surprised that Miranda Priestly would even own such a thing, let alone have it so accessible, so near…it was just…but Andy couldn't stop looking at it.

And in her distracted state she didn't hear the door open.

TBC...


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

She didn't see Miranda staring at her. She didn't see Miranda gauging Andy's reaction to her favorite little battery operated friend. Miranda's eyes-widened, and a smile spread across her thin lips. She laughed, bringing Andy's attention towards her.

"Oh fuck, sorry, Miranda, I just…" Andy stumbled to find words. She rolled away from the table, away from the now partially opened drawer.

Miranda's smile didn't fade, however. It only grew. Her lips parted and her tongue ran down the side of her mouth and across her bottom lip, laughing almost silently.

Andy, realizing, she wasn't mad, looked rather perplexed at the grinning, smiling woman, coming towards her. Miranda dropped "The Book" on her bedside table and sat down on the edge of the bed, peering down at her vibrator.

"Why do you…you don't…" Andy couldn't even begin to comprehend why Miranda had such a thing. "You don't need that." Andy pointed a finger in the direction of the drawer and Miranda just laughed.

"You mean you've never…" Miranda trailed off realizing Andy really hadn't ever. "All right." Miranda extracted her vibrator from the drawer and dropped her robe, exposing her naked body.

"What are you….?" Andy was speechless.

But Miranda didn't respond, only nodded, flicking her wrist in a gesture that meant for Andy to lay back. Andy apprehensively did so, biting her lip. Miranda had already brought her over her edge more than once and just looking at that evil, seductive glint in Miranda's eye nearly did it again. But she pulled herself together, intrigued by what Miranda was about to do to her.

Miranda flipped the vibrator on and nestled herself gently on top of Andy. Her hand, with vibrator attached, slid tenderly between their bodies, pressing the device firmly against Andy. Andy cried out and grabbed onto Miranda's back. "Oh my God!"

The sensation of vibrator against her was enthralling, she arched against Miranda's hand and the little, wonderful device pressed further against her. Andy could see why Miranda liked it so much.

Miranda, conversely, was getting quite the same affect. Her hand was positioned at just the right spot so that her own middle could press heavily against her vibrating hand. She moaned, masking it with a needy kiss pressed to Andy's lips.

Their bodies moved together, and for once Miranda didn't try to make it last, she let herself get over her edge, and she realized, as she did so, that Andy orgasmed only seconds after her.

"Oh God, Miranda…" Andy was overwhelmed, her senses in overdrive as she fell back in the bed. Miranda sat up and grinned, flipping the vibrator off.

"Yes, and you wonder why I use it." Miranda rolled off of Andy and tucked the vibrator back into the drawer.

"Well I just…I didn't…" Andy felt like a babbling idiot, but Miranda's phenomenal lovemaking skills were leaving her without words.

Miranda smiled and then plumped her pillows. Picking up her spare pair of reading glasses, Miranda snuggled into the pillows and grabbed "The Book". Andy, regaining some semblance of calm after the orgasm, rolled close to her new lover, finding it extremely sexy that Miranda was in her glasses and nothing else. She kissed Miranda's arm, her cheek. "Do you have to work?" Andy moaned.

Miranda raised her eyebrow at her, opening her mouth to speak, to explain why she needed to work.

"No, don't. I understand." Andy sighed, pressing kisses to Miranda's collarbone.

"You're quite distracting." Miranda bristled, attempting to mark on the page, but missing, her black pen marring Andy.

"Marking me?" Andy laughed.

"You'd better watch out, or I might." Miranda huffed, scribbling down her thought before Andy could get in her way once more.

Andy realized she could taunt Miranda while she worked, and Miranda wasn't going to argue. So she kissed her way down Miranda's body.

"Andrea." Miranda's voice held a hint of warning, that if Andrea continued, she might just get herself into trouble.

But she didn't heed Miranda's warning. She just kept right on going, her lips moving lower and lower with each kiss.

"Andrea…" Miranda huffed, her eyes never leaving "The Book". Andy knew Miranda wasn't watching, for as soon as she got to Miranda's middle and glanced up, she found Miranda feigning disinterest. She slid gently between Miranda's thighs and, following in Miranda's lead, she let her tongue explore uncharted territory, surprised at how she quite enjoyed Miranda's taste, the feel of Miranda's soft area against her lips.

Miranda shifted slightly, attempting to keep her focus on "The Book". But Andrea's lips were quite riveting. She let a moan slip from between her lips as she wrote: Horrible layout…re-work paragraph format. No picture here-

Andy kept going, glad that Miranda wasn't pushing her away and finding it hot that she was attempting to ignore her.

As Andy continued her assault on Miranda's wet center, Miranda allowed herself to relax into her. She let her legs come further apart, giving Andy more access, arching against her.

"Andrea!!!" Miranda cried, and Andy realized she had caused Miranda to come once more. She licked at Miranda's wetness and then slowly let her tongue drag up Miranda's stomach. It only detached so she could make her way over "The Book" to kiss Miranda.

Miranda enthusiastically let Andy kiss her, before she detached her lips. "I have to finish this." She sweetly grinned, pressing her lips to Andy's once more.

Andy nodded and rolled off of Miranda, cuddling up beside her. She glanced at the page Miranda was adamantly studying, her eyes skimming its contents. "That dress is fabulous." Andy pointed, letting her lips caress Miranda's ear.

"You like it?" Miranda eyed it, looked it over, and then crossed it off, writing: Move to page 10.

"Why did you do that?" Andy frowned, her arms moving gently over Miranda's arm, body.

"I think it will go better with the Editor's favorites." Miranda grinned, having also admired the dress long before Andy had pointed it out.

Andy inwardly smiled, and nuzzled Miranda's neck, kissing her tenderly. She yawned and stretched out, finding that she was now bored. With Miranda busy editing "The Book", Andy had nothing to do. Realizing the pack of cigarettes was across the room, Andy removed herself from the bed, feeling Miranda's eyes on her as she did so. She pulled the pack out and fumbled with the zippo lighter, lighting the cigarette. She returned to the bed, puffing away. Miranda reached over and let her finger's graze over Andy's naked body, loving the feel of Andy's skin beneath her fingers. Her eyes, however, did not move from the page she was editing.

Andy blew out a cloud of smoke and intertwined her fingers with Miranda's, just glad to be near her, touching her, feeling her touch against her skin.

"You can watch TV." Miranda noted, turning the page, scrutinizing the new page.

Andy nodded. "I don't want to distract you." She grinned and leaned in to kiss Miranda.

Miranda laughed and grabbed the cigarette from her. And there was just something about that image of Miranda, naked with glasses, "The Book", and a cigarette, that drove Andy mad. And with patient silence on Andy's part, and thorough examination of "The Book" on Miranda's part, they were soon ready for bed.

They cuddled in close to one another, body parts entwined together. Sweet kisses were exchanged before they were too tired to kiss. And late in the evening, early in the morning before sleep had entirely consumed them, Miranda snuggled into Andy's ear and whispered, "I love you."

"Love you." Andy incoherently responded.

~*~

And the next morning was just as sweet. They awoke to Miranda's alarm clock. Miranda was abruptly awaken by the annoying beeping and turned to find Andy beside her. She let out a slow, morning laugh and leaned in to kiss Andy, who was semi-awake.

"Don't get up." Andy whispered, grabbing on to Miranda and pulling her towards her, not allowing her to turn off the incessant beeping of her alarm clock.

Their kisses turned into much, much more and Miranda soon dragged Andy with her to the shower. And by the time they were done, it was getting late. Andy watched Miranda dress, helping her into her clothes, though she didn't really want to. She kissed the bare skin that was soon covered up as she closed the zipper on Miranda's skirt. Her lips pressed to Miranda's chest as she buttoned her up in the front. And soon their lips connected.

"I have to go." Miranda muttered against Andy's lips.

Andy pouted, and Miranda kissed away her pout. "You should go too."

"I know." Andy nodded.

"You can wear whatever you'd like from my closet." Miranda grinned and brushed past her, on her way to touch up her make-up for the day and find some shoes.

Andy frowned, wondering what she could and couldn't wear home. She decided on the cheapest looking pair of pants and a jacket that looked like it was several years old. However, she was sure that both pieces cost well in the 1,000 dollar range.

As she exited the closet she found there was someone else in the room.

"Oh, Cassidy." Andy gasped, feeling suddenly very, very exposed, embarrassed, ashamed, and surprised.

"Good morning, Andy." Cassidy blurrily smiled at the younger woman.

It was clear, from Miranda's position and her daughter's that Miranda was trying to get Cassidy to leave. "Cassidy, go downstairs and eat breakfast." Miranda instructed, her tone challenging.

Cassidy didn't flinch, just left the room looking rather excited, for some unexplained reason.

"Well, now she knows." Miranda raised her eyebrows and turned on her heels, heading towards her bathroom.

"Well, that's not a bad thing, Miranda." Andy shrugged. "She obviously didn't care."

Miranda exhaled sharply and Andy could sense something bad was about to happen.

"All right, I'm leaving." Andy whispered, before she could have Miranda turn on her and yell and ruin their real first morning together. But as Andy turned and walked away, she felt Miranda wrap her arms around her.

"Have a good day," Miranda kissed her neck, reminding Andy that she had several hickeys to cover that day at work. Andy's smile returned, glad that Miranda wasn't yelling at her.

"You too." Andy turned and kissed her gently goodbye.

~*~  
And thus began Andy's gradual incorporation into the Priestly household. Nights were spent at Miranda's, making passionate love, or just kissing and cuddling. As the days went on, Andy began bringing more and more of her clothes and daily essentials to the townhome. She was slowly moving in, and Miranda quite liked it. There was a spot for Andy's clothes in her closet, and Miranda was gracious enough to clean out a drawer in the bathroom for her toiletries.

Furthermore, Cassidy was at peace with the relationship. She didn't seem to mind when she'd bump into Andy in the kitchen in the morning. In fact she quite liked having another female around. It was different from the men her mother usually had around. Andy just seemed more nice, warmer than the others had been.

She even opted to stay home on weekends she was invited to go with her dad and sister. She would make up an excuse just to spend time with Andy, who was becoming a permanent fixture in her life.

Miranda took notice. And while she felt a sense of relief that Cassidy was so close to Andy, it also frightened her. Miranda's track record with men was not very good. She was just waiting for the moment when she would screw up and Andy would vanish. She didn't want that to happen. Everything felt so good when Andy was around; she could hardly comprehend what life was like before Ms. Sachs. And to lose her would be the worst thing that could happen to Miranda, and perhaps to Cassidy.

This was the first time Cassidy had warmed up to one of Miranda's partners. So she was worried. She didn't want Cassidy to lose 'her Andy' as she fondly liked to call her.

And one night Andy took notice of Miranda's unfounded fear. As Andy lay beside Miranda, busily typing on her laptop, she happened to notice the Editor was deep in thought. She turned and pressed a kiss to Miranda's cheek, looking over her shoulder to see what she was distractedly staring at on a page of "The Book".

"What's wrong?" Andy inquired, taking a moment to bend her aching wrists, rolling them around to stretch them out.

"What do you mean?" Miranda frowned, flipping the page.

"You seem distracted." Andy commented, deciding to put her laptop away for the night. She closed it and moved it to the bedside table.

"What do you mean? I'm editing." Miranda circled a picture and xed through another.

"No, I mean recently. You've been acting distant." Andy snuggled in to Miranda's side, pointing out a grammatical error she'd missed on the page.

Miranda huffed and marked it, turning to look at Andy. "What do you mean? I've been busy. The magazine is due out by the end of the week."

"I realize, I just felt like something was on your mind." Andy took the pen away from her lover, causing Miranda to focus solely on her.

Miranda sighed and took her glasses off, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I just," Miranda paused, not even sure how to bring it up without sounding too needy, or insecure.

"What is it, Miranda?" Andy knew she wanted to say something, but was having trouble forming the sentence.

"Your interaction and…the connection you have with my one daughter, who is speaking to me, is surprising, to me, and I quite hope that you don't…" Andy frowned at Miranda's words, wondering where she was going with this train of thought. "I hope you don't…"

And Andy figured out what the usually very articulate editor was saying. "No, no Miranda. I'm not like Stephen…or whatever the husband before him's name was. I'm not going anywhere. Unless you want me to." Andy pacified her with sweet kisses.

Miranda grinned, glad to have it cleared up. "No, I want you right here." Miranda stated through kisses. "And I want Caroline here, too."

"I know," Andy nodded.

And just as their kisses were beginning to heat up into something more, Miranda's cell phone started to ring. Miranda huffed and grabbed it off her nightstand. When she realized who it was, however, she immediately detached herself from Andy's embrace and set up on the edge of the bed. "Caroline?" Her voice was filled with hope; Andy couldn't possibly see how Caroline could have stayed away from her mother for so long.

"Of course, bubsie. I'll be right over to get you, of course." Miranda was already out of the bed and in her closet before she'd hung up the phone. Andy watched as Miranda, who looked suddenly radiant, exited the closet in an all to put together outfit. "She wants to come home. Now. She said something about John and his girlfriend…or girlfriends. She couldn't stand it anymore."

Andy grinned.

"I'm getting my baby back." Miranda smiled, leaning down to kiss Andy.

"I knew she'd come around." Andy laughed, realizing it was very late at night. She would, more than likely, be asleep before Miranda and Caroline returned. After a long kiss goodbye, Miranda left.

Shortly after Andy fell asleep.

~*~

The next morning was quite interesting, for when Andy entered the kitchen there were two red-heads seated at the barstools eating breakfast. They were whispering together, and didn't notice Andy until she opened the refrigerator.

"I told you." She heard Cassidy smartly remark to her sister.

Caroline scrunched her face and huffed, determined not to speak to Andy. She still hated the idea that Andy was around in the morning. That had to mean she'd spent the night…with her mother. It was gross.

"Morning, girls." Andy smiled kindly at them, but only Cassidy returned the smile. Caroline busied herself with eating cereal. "Glad that you're back, Caroline. Your mother missed you a lot." Andy commented, as she opened a yogurt.

Caroline just shrugged her shoulders and continued eating.

"Quite being rude, Caroline." Cassidy chastised her sister.

"I don't have to answer to her. She's not my….mom." Caroline huffed.

"Caroline." Miranda's chilly voice was heard on the stairwell.

Caroline straightened in her seat.

"I know you don't quite like the idea of Andy and I together, but we are grown-ups. You should respect her, just as you respect me." Miranda reprimanded her daughter as she moved to make a cup of coffee.

"I don't owe her respect." Caroline muttered under her breath and Miranda turned to face her daughter, surprised at her brashness.

"Excuse me," Miranda stepped towards her daughter, causing Caroline to whimper and Cassidy to squirm uncomfortably in her seat.

"Sorry." Caroline sighed.

Miranda eyed her daughter and then turned away from her, back to her coffee making. "I expect you to respect Andy. And who knows, you might come to like her. Cassidy certainly does." Miranda added icily, moving towards Andy, who had been quietly eating her yogurt and watching the daring exchange between mother and daughter. Miranda stole the spoon from Andy and took the bite of yogurt that Andy had just scooped for herself.

Andy winked at Cassidy and then glanced down at her watch. "Oh shoot, I need to go."

"All right, see you tonight." Miranda grinned, giving her a chaste kiss on the lips, sending her off for the day. Caroline merely grimaced and pushed her half eaten bowl of cereal away from her. She was no longer hungry.

TBC... Review por favor :D


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Irv was asked to decline from his position at Elias-Clarke.

Miranda never thought she'd see the day. But it had arrived. He was gone.

But in his place came an unknown, all the way from Italy. She was absolutely stunning, but fierce at her job.

Natalie Valencia was the perfect business woman.

She was a gorgeous forty something with legs for days; long, flowing brunette hair; a chic, up-to-date wardrobe; and personality to boot.

She invited Miranda out to dinner to introduce herself and talk some business. They hit it off wonderfully. And Miranda decided she much preferred Natalie over Irv. They talked over several glasses of wine and a light meal. The whole while Miranda found that she felt an equal to her younger boss, and Natalie, in turn, knew that Miranda had the experience and expertise to help guide the whole corporation. However, Miranda wouldn't dream of leaving her post as Editor-and-Chief of _Runway_.

"No, no, I'd never consider moving up at Elias-Clarke. I've worked too hard for my position and if I left the magazine would suffer." Miranda sipped her wine and registered the green eyes that flashed before her. Natalie was looking her over. She felt suddenly uncomfortable; this quite reminded her of her dinner with Christian and she did not want to repeat that dinner.

"I see, well you're over-qualified, really Miranda." Natalie grinned and delicately cut her chicken.

"I wouldn't say I'm over-qualified for your position, if anything I would be under-qualified. I know how to put together a magazine, not piece together an entire corporation." Miranda smiled.

"Well it's not that much different." Natalie grinned.

"What did you do prior to this?" Miranda inquired, feeling as if she'd done most of the talking all evening.

"I worked at a similar corporation in France for awhile. I gradually worked my way up the ladder and was recognized, and then asked to come overseas, over here. I feel they wanted a woman in the position."

"Women do it better." Miranda laughed and raised her glass, wondering exactly how many she'd had. Her comment was dripping with lesbianism, and she could see that her new boss quite possibly leaned that way. But she wasn't going to fall for it. She had Andy waiting at home. Andy who…had just texted her?

"That is true." Natalie nodded, a sly smile playing at her lips. "Call?" She noticed Miranda looking down at her phone.

"Text, do you mind?" Miranda glanced at her new boss.

"No, not at all." Natalie shrugged.

Miranda flipped open her phone and read the message,

'I'm going to bed soon. I hope you get here before then….Where are you anyway? Weren't you supposed to be home an hour ago?'

Miranda let her mouth pull to the side, _shit_, she'd forgotten to tell Andy about the impromptu dinner. What would she think?

"I need to make a call, would you excuse me?" Miranda felt bad leaving her boss, but she needed to explain. "It's my daughter…" Miranda lied.

"Oh, of course. Go ahead." Natalie waved her away.

Miranda excused herself from the table and dialed Andy as she walked away, to the front entrance. Outside, she waited for Andy to pick up while lighting a cigarette.

"Hey baby, I was just about to go to bed…are you working late?" Andy sounded relaxed, happy. Miranda wished she were there with her. Glancing down at her watch she realized it was almost 9:30. Time had gotten away from her.

"No, I'm sorry I forgot to call. My new boss invited me out to dinner and I knew you had that interview at 7, so I didn't want to interrupt, and then I forgot to call." Miranda was bound and determined to get it right this time. After all, Andy and hers relationship was quite serious now.

"Oh, it's all right." Andy didn't sound concerned. "I just got back a little while ago. The girls were up doing homework and I just grabbed something out of the fridge to eat."

"All right, well I should be home soon. And don't you dare go to bed without me." Miranda laughed, taking a final puff of her cigarette.

And as soon as she returned to the table, she told Natalie that she had to get home. The girls needed her.

"I understand. Go, go. I'll see you at work tomorrow. Don't forget the meeting tomorrow at 11." Natalie reminded Miranda, taking the bill before Miranda could even insist on paying.

"I won't." Miranda grinned, though she had a feeling the meeting would be dull and she might have to cancel…for a run through, or something. But now she promised Natalie she'd be there, kissed her on the check goodbye and headed home to Andy.

That night, when Miranda returned home, Andy was waiting for her, in bed. She let Miranda kiss her passionately before pulling away to inquire about her meal. "Is she beautiful?" It was as if Andy could see through Miranda.

"Gorgeous, but not my type." Miranda shrugged out of her blazer and kicked off her heels.

"Oh really. Then what might your type be?" Andy laughed, watching as Miranda crawled on top of her, libido clearly up and running.

"You." Miranda grinned, allowing all jealous thoughts of Natalie to dissolve from Andy's mind.

~*~

The only moment that Andy felt the slightest bit jealous occurred one night when old wounds surfaced.

A party. It always had to be a party. Natalie had insisted Miranda attend, for it was simply a perfect opportunity to be seen. It was a party to highlight the release of _Spotlight_under Elias-Clarke. The instant Andy heard the name of the magazine; she knew who would be there.

"I don't want you going to that party." Andy exclaimed, rubbing her face cream deeply into her pores as Miranda undid her earrings and stepped out of her heels. Andy had practically moved in, but had insisted she keep her apartment for moments when she needed to focus solely on work. Thus Miranda had insisted she help pay the rent, and Andy hadn't been able to complain though she sensed Miranda wanted her to move entirely in with her; but Andy wouldn't consider it until Caroline was completely comfortable with the idea.

Miranda shifted and studied her eyebrows in her mirror. "Why?" She simply inquired, seeming to know where Andy was going with this.

"Why? Because Miranda. _He's_ going to be there." Andy hissed, turning to face Miranda.

"Well it's not as if I'm going to," Miranda began pushing her panty-hoes down, "fuck him in front of everyone at a party." And as she reached down to collect her hoes she gave Andy a sideways grin.

"That's not even funny, Miranda." Andy didn't laugh. Instead she made her way into the bedroom.

Miranda followed after, undoing her skirt as she walked. "Darling, I won't even talk to him, if you don't want me to. Though some might find that rather odd, I mean me not speaking to the creator of-"

"I want to go with you." Andy resolutely stated.

"What?" Miranda hummed as if she hadn't heard, stepping out of her skirt and reached for the buttons on her shirt.

Andy looked right at her. "You heard me."

Miranda sighed, not liking this conversation. They had been together for almost four months. Within those four months, and days prior to their actual relationship, they had not showed up on the paparazzi radar. No blogs, no gossip columns, no pictures, nothing. It was quite baffling actually, and Miranda wasn't sure how it had gone under the radar for so long. But to actually bring Andy to a party with her would open up all the secrets, everything would surface and people would be hounding her, harder than when her first couple of marriages had dissolved in very public fashion.

"Miranda?" Andy was trying to get her attention.

She turned and went into her closet.

"Miranda!" Andy was serious about this.

"We've never done such a thing before, and I'm just not-"

"I don't have to hang on your arm, Miranda. I can arrive of my own accord, I just want to be there. With you. Especially with him being there." Andy had followed her into the closet.

Miranda turned from rummaging through her pajama drawer. "You mean you don't want to be seen with me?" Her voice was sincere, she seemed grateful for this.

"No, I like them not knowing. I mean, it'll come up someday, I'm sure, but for now it doesn't need to concern anyone but us. I quite like it this way." Andy shrugged, pulling a pair of satin pajama pants out of Miranda's drawer and handing them to her.

Miranda smiled and moved past Andy, back to her bathroom, stepping into the pants as she walked. "I do, too." Miranda agreed, turning the water on to brush her teeth.

"So I can come." Andy approached Miranda from behind and kissed her bare shoulder.

Miranda sighed, turning to face Andy as she brushed her teeth in large circular motions. She seemed to think it over for a second and then rolled her eyes and nodded yes.

A smile spread like fire across Andy's face and she pressed a quick kiss to Miranda's cheek.

~*~

And sure enough, Clinton Russell was there.

He was quite dazzling and handsome up close and personal. Though knowing that Miranda had slept with him, quite angered Andy and she avoided him at all costs.

She watched from the far corner of the dimly lit room, as Miranda mingled. She had yet to talk to Clinton, but Andy knew it would only be a matter of time before the two came together. And she wasn't sure she'd be able to watch without flying over and possessively stealing Miranda away and kicking him in the balls.

As of now, Andy sipped her champagne and watched Miranda circulate with Emily and her newest assistant at her heels. Miranda chatted with Natalie and her husband momentarily, before Miranda moved to talk with James Holt and several other well known people.

It wasn't until later that Clinton and Miranda crossed paths. Andy watched as Miranda reached for a glass of champagne, turned, and found Clinton right behind her. Andy noticed Miranda plaster on a fake, yet professional smile. She nicely greeted him, extending her hand for a brief touch.

Everything seemed fine, until he leaned in and whispered something into her ear. Somehow Miranda's eyes found Andy and she widened them, clearly in annoyance. It immediately calmed Andy, and she easily saw that Miranda was unaffected by Clinton's charm. When he moved away from her she graciously smiled at him and then excused herself away from him.

Andy watched as Miranda cautiously ducked out of the party, slipping out a side door and on to what seemed to be a fire escape. Andy knew it was a cue for her to join her outside to smoke. Miranda had taken to ducking out of parties for a cigarette, not wanting the public to know about her habit. Andy demurely made her way across the room. As she was about to slip out the door, she felt an arm pull her back in.

"You can't go out-Andy?" Emily's piercing eyes and fiery red hair caused Andy's heart to race and her palms to sweat. Clearly Miranda had set up security that would bar people from catching her out on the balcony. Shit, now Andy was going to have to explain herself.

"Hey Emily." Andy tried to act cool and casual.

"What are you doing here?" Emily looked quite surprised, put-off by Andy's sudden appearance.

"Miranda…uh…she asked me here. You know, to mingle. I just thought I'd sneak off and talk to her for a quick second…" Andy felt silly trying to lie, but Emily didn't look like she was going to let her past.

"No, no. Miranda specifically asked that no one follow her outside. You can wait here until she comes back in." Emily seemed quite confused as to why Andy would want to go outside with Miranda.

"But I need to…I was just about to leave. I need to speak to her. Quickly…"

"No. Go mingle or something." Emily sputtered into her champagne glass, waving Andy away.

And just as Andy was about to scream and shout, frustrated that Emily wouldn't let her through to see her lover, Miranda opened the door and pulled Andy out into the cool night. Emily frowned, and then found herself face to face with Miranda. "When I say keep people from coming outside, I don't mean Andrea." Miranda snapped and then shut the door, taking an inhalation of her cigarette.

Andy pressed a quick kiss to Miranda's willing lips as they stepped out of view from the doors window.

"What was he telling you?" Andy inquired, taking the cigarette from Miranda.

Miranda just shrugged and watched as Andy inhaled. "I honestly wasn't paying attention." Miranda fluffed her hair and cleared her throat. Andy frowned at her, knowing she wasn't telling the entire truth. Miranda sighed, "he was whispering about our night together and how he missed me, or something, and how he wants to do it again." Miranda honestly answered, stealing her cigarette back. "I told him, sweetly, 'no, never, ever'."

A slow smile spread across Andy's lips. She leaned in for a lingering kiss. "I'm ready to go." She whispered as they pulled away.

"As am I." Miranda nodded, butting her cigarette with her Jimmy Choo.

And quickly they slipped back into the party. Miranda quickly whispered, "I'll meet you in the car." And with that she was mingling her way to the exit. Andy made a hasty exit, ignoring Emily and her questioning glare.

Andy texted Roy, the only person, apart from a select few, who knew about their relationship. He knew if he leaked such a story his job would be on the line, and so he didn't speak of it. He merely ignored it. Though he and Andy quite liked one another.

When she slipped into the backset Roy greeted her with a smile through the rearview mirror. "How was the party?"

"Lovely," Andy smiled. "It was odd just being there for the sake of being there. I didn't have to remember anyone's names for Miranda, or follow her around. I just had to stand there. And ironically I recognized almost everyone in the room. They just could care less about who I am, which is just fine. Fine for now." Andy grinned and Roy smiled through the review mirror at her.

"As it should be. Once the paparazzi gets a hold of this, Miranda and you will be bombarded with people." Roy shyly reminded her.

Andy sighed, "I know. It's unfortunate. She doesn't deserve all that press. Nor do her girls." She lamented, watching the exit of the building for her lovely partner.

"The girls seem to like you." Roy pointed out.

"Really? Caroline has been on my case since I started…well…" Andy smiled; Roy caught on.

"I overheard her in the car the other day saying how she didn't mind you much anymore. She sounded quite used to you being around."

"Really? Are you sure that wasn't Cassidy?" Andy looked at Roy, feeling surprised and slightly relieved to hear that Caroline was taking the relationship better.

"No, Cassidy was trying to get her to admit she liked you."

"Ah." Andy grinned; her heart suddenly pounding faster than normal when she saw the silver-haired woman exit the building, her blackberry pressed firmly against her ear. She was adamantly talking to someone. As she entered the car, Andy caught the tail-end of the conversation.

"No, no…I will not accept that. I want those prints redone before tomorrow…yes…YES. You do realize you have exactly 48 hours before it goes to….well then do it!" And with that she angrily hung up the phone. Andy didn't move, didn't touch her, didn't react. She let the moment pass and finally Miranda turned to her, and in one sweeping gesture she lunged forward and pressed her lips feverishly against Andy's. "I watched you all night," she panted through messy kisses, "I wanted to touch you," her lips trailed over Andy's neck. Roy put up the partition.

Andy moaned against Miranda's hungry attack. She felt Miranda's hand reaching for the bottom of her gown, fingers running over pantyhose, trying to find a way in. It was messy and Miranda seemed frustrated as she finally let her fingers graze over Andy's bare clitoris. Fingers moved, moved against Andy's increasingly wet, tender center. She couldn't believe Miranda was fucking her, roughly at that, in the back of the car. With Roy in the front seat.

But before Andy could get a release from Miranda's unfocused fingers, Miranda pulled away and returned unceremoniously back to her side of the car. And just like that Andy was left unfinished.

"Miranda…" Andy could hardly get her name out. She slumped against her side of the car, unable to move, her body in complete shock. She couldn't believe Miranda had begun it if she wasn't going to finish. "Miranda," Andy panted.

"I can't, right now, Andy." Miranda breathed back, her eyes closing in an attempt to calm her frayed nerves.

"Can't…fuck you." Andy sighed, regaining some semblance of control over her body.

"Excuse me." Miranda turned to face her.

"I said FUCK you." Andy exclaimed, her voice surprisingly still soft. "You can't do that."

"I am in no state to be having sex with you, I'm sorry I began it, but I cannot finish it. Not right now." Miranda calmly retorted.

And Andy sighed, realizing that Miranda was clearly pissed about a work matter and she had attempted to take her frustration out on Andy. She also realized the woman had enough self control to calm herself before continuing.

"Come here." Miranda sighed, after a moment.

Andy glanced over at her, as if she were asking her to get out of the car. "What?"

"Come here." Miranda's voice was breathy.

Andy slowly, reluctantly came towards her and their lips pressed together in a languid kisses. Miranda was trying to pacify her, she knew, and against her will it was working.

Miranda would get her off later that night, and it would be wonderful, heavenly, delightfully sinful. But right now, in the back of the car, it wasn't happening.

~*~

And that night, once Miranda had gotten herself under control, she made love to Andy until she was nearly sore between her legs. And she loved it.

~*~

The next morning, the Caroline was late to rise. No one seemed to notice that she had missed her chance at going to school with Cassidy. Roy had already gone on without Caroline. The only person who noticed was Andy, who wasn't to be into the office until much later that day, and so she'd lazily strolled past the girls room in search of Patricia, who she had thought about taking on a walk that morning.

But as she peered into Caroline's room, she noticed the girl was sprawled across the covers, completely asleep.

Andy glanced at her watch and realized it was almost 9:30. She needed to be at Dalton, not sleeping.

With Miranda already at Elias-Clarke, and also not wanting to worry her, Andy entered the room and gently shook Caroline awake.

Caroline rolled over and sleepily began to wake up. She frowned when she saw Andy hovering above her.

"Caroline, you're late to school." Andy whispered, watching as the girl began to more fully wake up.

"Oh shit." Caroline's voice was raspy, she flung the covers off the bed and raced into her closet. There was no time for a shower, so she pulled her red hair into a quick ponytail, and somehow managed, in five minutes, to look better than Andy looked in an hour. She supposed it was because Caroline was young.

"Do you want me to make you breakfast?" Andy asked, moving to leave the room.

"No, no time."

"All right, I'll get a car to take you to school." Andy began to leave, but Caroline stopped her, fear and panic etching her features.

"Please don't, then mom will know." Caroline looked so worried, she clearly didn't want to disappoint her mother.

"Well then what do you want me to do?" Andy frowned.

"Will you take me?" Caroline's comment took Andy by surprise.

"Of course, but I don't have a car…or…"

"I don't care. I just don't want to use public transportation alone." Caroline grabbed her backpack and raced down the stairs, Andy on her heels.

Andy had just enough time to slip into her shoes and grab her coat before she was being pulled out of the townhouse and out to the street. She was expected to hail a cab, which she did. After giving the cab very specific directions on how to get to Dalton (for if she hadn't he would have driven them around a loop to get there) they were on their way. Caroline's leg kept bouncing, she was ancy and nervous.

Andy's hand was calmly placed on top of Caroline's knee and the girl looked over at her, her mother's blue eyes staring directly into Andy's brown ones. "You'll be fine. And I won't tell your mom if you don't." Andy smiled.

And for once, in the four months she'd been with Miranda and her family, Caroline actually smiled at her. Grant it, it was a quick smile, but a smile none the less. And Andy began to see that Caroline could, quite possibly, come to like her. Maybe.

And in no time, Caroline was bounding up the stairs of Dalton and into the school. Andy watched her until she disappeared, and then allowed the cab to take her back to the empty Priestly town home. The home she was beginning to feel was where she was truly meant to be.

As she stepped in the front door, she realized that, even in the silence, she was very comfortable within the Priestly home.

TBC... :D


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

The very thing that gave Miranda great joy when she had been married, the last three times, was now her least favorite. Months before Andy, Miranda delighted in getting away, taking time for herself and dealing with business matters in beautiful places that were not New York. However, with Andy occupying the same bed as she nearly every night, rumpling her sheets, cuddling with her, holding her, touching her, making love to her…a business trip sounded less than appealing.

She didn't want to leave the following morning, what with it being days from Thanksgiving, and Andy so warmly cuddled into her side.

Miranda sensed that her alarm clock was about to go off. She reached over and clicked it off only seconds before the insistent alarm could sound. She didn't want to wake Andy up any earlier than they already had to be up. Miranda guessed that she wouldn't be seeing her girls before she left, but as she pulled the covers off of herself to slip out of the bed, she turned to find a figure standing in her doorway. She couldn't quite make out who it was; however, the red hair alerted her to the fact that it was one of her daughters.

"Bubsie?" Miranda attempted to cover up her scantily clad body by reaching for her robe that was lying by the bed.

"Morning mom." It was Caroline. She could tell by her voice.

"Why aren't you asleep?" Miranda whispered, trying as hard as she could to not wake Andy.

"I wanted to see you before you left." Caroline moved towards her mother. Miranda quickly covered up her lovers naked body so that her daughter wouldn't see, and then allowed her daughter to walk into her arms. She hugged her slowly, sleepily. Caroline glanced over at Andy and Miranda looked over as well, hoping that she hadn't uncovered a naked body part on accident. "I like her there." Caroline whispered against her mother's stomach.

Miranda breathed, realizing that her daughter was giving her her seal of approval. "Yes, well I must get ready for the day. Why don't you go back to bed?" Miranda leant down and kissed her daughter's cheek. "And pass that along to your sister."

Caroline nodded and sleepily moved out of her mother's room. Miranda was going to have to remember to lock her door. She didn't necessarily like to wake up to her daughter hovering at her door.

Just as Miranda moved to take a quick morning shower, Andy rolled over in the bed. "Miranda?" She called out, her voice tired.

"Yes, honey. I'm here. I'm going to take a shower. If you'd like to see me off, I'd advise you to be ready in thirty minutes." Miranda slipped out of her robe, tossing it on to the bathroom floor.

"I was planning on coming with you to the airport, Miranda." Andy sleepily, irritably mentioned.

"I know, darling, I'm just giving you a time frame." Miranda turned on the water in the shower, flooding out Andy's reply.

Moments later Miranda felt the shower door open and allowed Andy's naked body to press into her. She didn't want to leave this. Miranda exhaled, turning to kiss Andy awake under the warm spray of water.

Moments later they were dressed and ready to leave. Miranda's bags were placed in the trunk, and both Miranda and Andy walked towards the front door. Just as they were about to leave, Cassidy pounced on her. The girl's sleepy arms wrapped around her mother's waist. Miranda gave her a quick kiss. "You'd better get back to sleep, darling." Miranda pressed her gently away.

Cassidy hugged Andy quickly and then said goodbye to her mother once more. Miranda was surprised her girls had woken up so early; they didn't have school for it was Thanksgiving break. And as Miranda and Andy exited the townhome, she began to wonder if they'd have even had school to begin with, for there was a coat of snow on the ground, and fresh snow was falling.

"I hope your plane gets out on time." Andy noted after they slid into the back seat.

"Well it'd better. Natalie has a detailed itinerary for the trip. I can't be late." Miranda noted, as she skimmed over a newspaper Roy had picked up for her. Andy scooted closer to Miranda and kissed her gently.

"I don't want you to go." Andy hummed, her lips colliding with Miranda's.

"Neither do I, but I must." Miranda whispered, vigorously returning the kiss with tired lips. They'd stayed up all night making love. They were both physically and mentally tired.

"I hope you're going to be home in time for Thanksgiving." Andy quietly stated, running her fingers gently across Miranda's stomach, her fingers finding their way between Miranda's coat and beneath her shirt. She wanted to feel Miranda's skin beneath her fingers. Miranda sighed, wishing that they could go back to bed.

"Unless something horribly wrong happens, I should be back by Thursday." Miranda assured her.

"Well, let's hope." Andy grinned.

And before either was ready, Roy pulled up to the airport curb.

Knowing that the paparazzi could be hot on their heels, Andy realized this was it. For the next six days. And hopefully it would only be six days. Their kisses became quick and needy. But Miranda knew she had to go.

"I love you." Miranda breathed, their lips connected for one last, long kiss and then it was time for her to go. Roy had already checked her bags and as she exited the car, Roy re-entered it.

Andy couldn't take her eyes off of Miranda as she walked, head held high, into the airport. Andy followed her until she could no longer see the gray-haired woman. She felt silly, early morning tears threatening to fall.

Looking down she wiped at her eyes.

"She's never been like this before." Roy mentioned as he pulled away from the curb.

~*~

Miranda had instructed that Andy stay in the townhome with the girls. She'd wanted her to be there for them so that they wouldn't have to bring the nanny in, and she decided the girls and Andy could use a little more bonding time.

The first night the townhome just felt empty. Everyone was quiet during dinner. There was hardly any conversation, and every couple of minutes Andy felt as if Miranda might walk in and join them, as she sometimes did. But Miranda never showed up, and Andy knew she shouldn't think that she would. She was half-way across the world in France.

In an attempt to entertain the girls, who seemed uncharacteristically quiet and resigned, Andy played Wii with them until they collapsed on the floor and Andy had to drag them to their respected bedrooms.

Andy finally fell into Miranda's bed, which now seemed larger than it had when both she and Miranda occupied it. Now she felt like she was drowning in the middle of a sea of red, helpless and alone. She wrapped Miranda's exotic, expensive comforter up and around herself, inhaling Miranda's scent off the unclean sheets. She wished she was there.

~*~

At four in the morning, Andy's cell phone began ringing. She groggily reached for it, hoping and praying it was Miranda.

Sure enough it was. Andy opened the phone and mumbled something that sounded like a "hello".

"Don't talk, just listen." Miranda cautioned, knowing her lover was half-asleep. "I hope you didn't stay up too late playing Wii," Andy frowned. How did she know they'd stayed up playing Wii? She hadn't told her. "I figured the girls would feel the need to drag you into a game or two. Further, I made it here just fine. I've already gone to a meeting and the level of incompetence at French _Runway_ is baffling. I had no idea it had gotten so bad," Miranda sighed. Her voice lowered as she went on, and Andy figured she was in the middle of a crowd of colleagues. "And I miss you, terribly. The bed is extremely stiff here and I was hardly able to sleep, though I only got to sleep for three hours, completely pointless." Andy grinned, Miranda had just told her she missed her as if she were giving work orders. "I do hope I am home soon. But I must go. I love you, tell the girls I love them too." Miranda calmly stated, lowering her voice so that only Andy could hear, "oh and Andrea, go back to sleep." And with that she hung up.

Andy let the phone slip from her grasp and she turned on her back. Thoughts and dreams of Miranda began to weave together until she heard her alarm going off the following morning.

~*~

The next couple of nights went in similar fashion. Miranda would call whenever she got a chance, update Andy, and then tell her to sleep. Andy began to realize that the woman sounded exhausted and in desperate need of some sexual relief. She sure hoped the six days would dwindle down quickly.

But on the fourth day, Miranda called in a state of complete and utter panic and furry. "They have extended this trip over Thanksgiving. There's no way I'm going to be able to get back by Thursday. Fucking bastards." Miranda mumbled, clearly miserable and horribly angry.

"What?" Andy sat up in bed, completely awake.

"There's no way, Andrea! No fucking way I'm going to be home. These irresponsible, incompetent assholes have decided that the layout isn't working, and of course it isn't. They're a bunch of useless morons." Miranda cursed, her voice dipping dangerously low.

"Calm down," Andy tried to put on her most soothing voice, but she could tell Miranda was still pissed.

"Calm down, how the fuck can I do that?" Andrea listened as Miranda blew a rough stream of smoke out of her mouth.

"We'll figure something out," Andy sighed. "I refuse to let you spend Thanksgiving alone in France."

Miranda just bristled, her mind was clearly clouded with anger.

~*~

After Andy hung up with the older woman, she sprang out of bed. She no longer cared that it was four in the morning. She was on a mission.

She quickly did some online research, snagged the last three tickets available, racked up her credit card bill, tossed some clothes into three suitcases from three different closets, and then slowly woke up the girls…

~*~

Miranda leaned back in her plush chair, tossing the newest mock-up of French _Runway_ onto the table and then pinched her nose between her thumb and forefinger. She could feel a migraine coming on. Today would be lousy, especially with a migraine.

She was fresh from the shower, where she'd gotten herself off to images of Andy in the most interesting of positions. She was supposed to be getting ready for a lunch with Natalie and Guillame, the fashion editor of French _Runway_. However, she was too angry to bother at the moment.

She watched as the clock clicked closer and closer to noon. The sun was bright outside; she'd closed all but one window, not feeling up to having the happy morning sunlight stream into the room. She was in a dismal mood, and she felt the need for near darkness.

Perhaps it would have been better to out herself to the public so that she could have Andy there with her. And her girls. She missed her girls.

But they had decided not to; it would have been too messy.

So now they were stuck apart for the holidays.

Perfect.

Miranda lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply.

The lunch…she had to get ready for it.

And in a matter of minutes, Miranda was pieced together immaculately. There was no hint of the angst she felt from being so far away from her love.

~*~

Caroline sleepily stared over at Andy, who had her head buried in a magazine. She looked quite focused, sitting there reading.

Caroline couldn't help but wonder if Andy missed her mom as much as she missed her. Caroline hated when her mom went away without her and her sister.

Though she supposed Andy wouldn't have woken them up so early and dragged them out of bed if she didn't miss her too.

And just as she began studying Andy through heavy eyelids, Andy glanced over at her, caught her staring, and smiled. Caroline tiredly smiled back, snuggling back against her sister.

Andy reached across the aisle and stroked Caroline's hair. "Go back to sleep, I'll wake you up when we get there."

Caroline nodded and gave herself over to sleep.

~*~

Miranda returned to her hotel room, Natalie hot on her heels. She was busy puffing away on a cigarette and skimming through magazines as she entered her room. "Do you see this?" Miranda shoved a magazine at Natalie. "This is what _Runway_ needs to beat, and right now it is not. And I would like it very much if someone here in France could figure this out and put forth the effort to make it better. You say the sales are down, well I can imagine why…look at this," Miranda held up French _Runway_, "as compared to this," she held up the aforementioned magazine. "Do you see the difference? Even the articles are better." Miranda skimmed through _Runway_, pinpointing a horrendous article she'd read the night prior. "No one cares about hair health when the tips in the magazine are exactly the same as they were a month before in _Vogue_. No one is going to care." Miranda sighed, falling into a chair, the magazines thrust into Natalie's hands.

"Well, Miranda, I see your point. But we don't have the resources…"

Miranda eyed her.

"Well what in the world do you propose we do? Hire someone out of left field? Bring in some inexperienced person because you find everyone who is experienced incapable? Would you like to run French _Runway_?" Natalie was out of ideas.

"No," Miranda shook her head and pulled out a sheet. A new editor on the scene, an unknown. Miranda had seen her work out years before. She'd pulled together a little nothing magazine in Italy and had made it a billion dollar magazine. Further, Miranda was quite certain they had similar qualities. "I did some research. Victoria knows fashion and she knows editing. I've been tracking her for quite some time. I would look into flying her out here. She might be invaluable to the company." Miranda mindlessly stated, letting the paper fall on the table.

And just as she did so, she heard voices outside her door. Familiar voices. Her head shot up and she strained to hear children's voices out in the hall.

"What?" Natalie glanced up from Victoria's fact sheet.

"I just…" Miranda got up and went to her door, beginning to wonder if her longing was making her hallucinate. But as she opened her door she staggered backwards in surprise. "Andy?"

Andy looked up from the luggage she was struggling with and smiled. "Hey honey." She grinned, and their lips were immediately pressed together.

Natalie watched from her spot on the couch, rather perplexed by this new situation.

Cassidy and Caroline rushed in behind Andy and wrapped their arms around Miranda. "Mom!!!" They cried happily. And Miranda bent down to kiss each of her girls.

It was while this was happening that Andy realized they were not alone in the room.

Natalie cleared her throat and stood up. She moved to shake Andy's hand, "hello." She smiled, a confused smile.

"Oh, Natalie," Miranda quickly wondered how she was going to explain this.

"Hi, I'm Andrea Sachs," Andy cut in.

"Well, nice to meet you, Andrea." Natalie continued smiling, feeling as if she were missing something. After no one offered further explanation, Natalie clasped her hands together and grinned. "Well, I'd better get going. I'll see you later at the dinner, and I will look into this Victoria."

Miranda nodded and watched her go. The girls squirmed past their mom and raced through the suite, taking in its immaculate detail.

Miranda and Andy watched as Natalie walked out of the suite, and then closed the door behind her. Andy turned to Miranda and grinned. "How completely awkward." She laughed, fingering the necklace around Miranda's neck.

"Yes, quite." Miranda smiled, leaning in to kiss her again and again. "Why are you here?"

"I couldn't stay away from you." Andy grinned, glad to be back in Miranda's arms. "And you better appreciate it; I do believe I maxed out my credit card getting the three of us here."

"Oh don't worry about that. I will take care of it." Miranda smiled, hoping her girls would find something to occupy themselves with so that she could take Andy right then. They began to make their way to the bedroom, but were stopped by Caroline.

"Mom, is there a pool?" Caroline innocently inquired.

"I do believe there is. Why don't you and your sister go find it?" Miranda suggested, picking up a key to the suite off the table. "Take this with you, and please don't get lost. And do not go out of the hotel, and do not…"

"Talk to strangers. We know." The girls replied in unison.

"All right, be careful." Miranda shook her head, then turned back to Andy.

As soon as the girls raced to their suitcases and put on their swim suits, followed by their quick exit, Miranda pounced on Andy before the door could even close behind her daughters. She nearly dragged her to the bed and with little word spoken between them, they made love to one another. Over and over. Until they collapsed breathless on the bed beside one another.

Miranda turned to kiss Andy, "God, I'm glad you came." She sighed against Andy's neck.

"Me, too." Andy grinned, her fingers stroking Miranda, running up and down her soft skin. "I missed you, so much."

"Too much." Miranda laughed.

"Yes." Andy laughed, kissing Miranda's forehead.

~*~

That evening Miranda had a dinner, but afterwards she took the girls and Andy out to L'oulette. After ordering, Miranda brought out three red boxes with the infamous Cartier emblem printed on top.

"Mom! What is this?" Cassidy cried.

"An early Thanksgiving present. For my three girls." Miranda winked at Andy and handed a box to each.

Andy's eyes widened at Miranda who just smiled and nodded for her to open it. The girls had already done so and were jumping in their seats. "Mom, it's gorgeous!" Caroline exclaimed, extracting the gold and silver band.

"Thank you mom!" Cassidy grinned, leaning over to kiss her mother.

Andy still hadn't opened hers and Miranda nudged her under the table, impatiently waiting for her to indulge her. Andy shook her head and opened the box, revealing the most gorgeous, and probably extremely expensive trinity bracelet from Cartier. "God, Miranda. It's beautiful."

Miranda smiled, "like you." They reached over and kissed as Miranda pulled the bracelet out of the box and slipped it onto Andy's wrist. "I love you."

"Love you." Andy grinned, kissing her again.

The twins exchanged grossed out looks at one another and Andy glanced over to them and laughed at the expressions on their faces.

Miranda looked over at her girls and smiled.

Yes, this was exactly where she wanted to be. This was how her life was supposed to be. Her girls looked happy and radiant, and as she glanced over at Andy she noted how beautiful and elated the younger woman looked.

And she realized that her greatest disappointment had turned out to be the greatest love of her life.

~The End~


End file.
